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Spice Plantation Ch. 01

By: professorjames



I closed my grade book and looked up and out of my office window. The wind had shifted around, now coming from the west-southwest. The radio had said earlier that it would bring slightly warmer temperatures - if two degrees above freezing is slightly warmer - but that it would also bring at least several inches of snow. I could just see the first few flakes, fat and soft, and knew that soon the roads would turn into a real mess as people headed home on Friday before the long weekend.

I was just thinking about reaching for the phone when there was a quick knock on my doorframe and I looked around to see Judy Montgomery leaning into my office. Although I teach Civil Engineering and Judy is an assistant professor in the history department, we see a lot of each other. In fact, we often see all of each other because we are lovers as well as colleagues.

I smiled at the welcome sight. Judy is twenty-eight, tall and slim, a condition her frequent athletic activities help her retain. She runs, swims, and she and I often spend lunch hours engaged in a strenuous fencing bout. We both learned epee as undergraduates and were happy to find someone with whom to continue our practice. Although she looks fabulous in the close fitting fencing jacket, the wire covered mask hides her really lovely face. She has shoulder length dark blonde hair, eyes of the deepest blue I have ever seen, and legs, as the expression says, which go all the way up. Now her bright smile answered mine and she said, "I decided to get out of here before the traffic gets bad. Interested in dinner?"

We had been dating for about four months now. We each retained our own residence, but generally spent most of each weekend together. We had talked about getting together on Saturday, but now Judy had anticipated my own idea to see her tonight. "I was just getting ready to call you and ask the same thing. In fact I was going to suggest I take you out for a nice dinner and then maybe drag you back to my place for the whole weekend. I have a surprise you might find interesting."

"All weekend, huh? I doubt I have enough clothes at your place to last until Tuesday."

"You have an outfit to wear for work Tuesday. That's all you'll need," I replied with a leer.

"Oh? Just what do you have in mind?"

"Actually. quite a few things," I replied. "But the surprise I was talking about is an old journal I think you'll find fascinating. It's right up your line - in more ways than one. What about it? Interested in a nice steak? And I have a bottle of Zin chilling at home."

She cocked her head for a second and then said, "How about this instead? Since they're saying maybe eight or ten inches of snow tonight and it's already starting, the roads will be a real mess in another half hour. So why don't you go on home and get a nice fire started and uncork that Zin while I stop and get us a large pizza. Then we can eat it in front of your fireplace."

"Dressed like last time?" I raised an eyebrow. A couple of weeks ago we had ordered pizza out and decided to eat it on the floor in front of the fireplace in my bedroom. We had just come from a school reception and were both dressed in fairly good clothes which we didn't want to get stained. Somehow we had ended up resolving this problem by having supper in the nude on a blanket spread in front of the fire. Dessert was even better.

Judy raised her own eyebrow. "If you'd like. Sounds like fun to me."

Twenty minutes later I was lighting the kindling and spreading a couple of thick comforters on the floor. I live in an older house on the edge of town. It's actually quite a bit larger than I need so I have converted one wing of the old Georgian into my living suite and mostly only use the kitchen in the rest of the house. Oh, occasionally I'll have a dinner party in the large dining room or something, but most of the time I just stay in my wing. Here I have an office and a bath, and a large - really large - bedroom, complete with a wood burning fireplace and a king sized four poster bed. There are also some more unusual items in my room, such as a leather covered vaulting horse, a large leather lounge, and screw eyes in a number of places. Shortly after we began dating, Judy and I were both delighted to discover that each of us loved erotic bondage. Oh, we're not into a real master-slave relationship or anything. Often there's nothing kinky about our love making at all, but both of us do enjoy bondage and a little discipline in the form of paddles, straps, clamps, and a cat of nine tails. While Judy is usually the 'victim' we each enjoy both roles and both of us find such play a tremendous tension reliever.

Even though it was only a little after four it was already getting dark and I saw Judy's headlights sweep across the windows before I heard her car pulling into the driveway. My house is at the end of a dead end road, separated from its closest neighbor by several hundred yards, so there's almost never a car unless it's coming here. I heard the garage door open and close as she pulled inside next to my car and I headed back downstairs to get the wine

She came into the kitchen carrying two large pizza boxes. I looked at them and asked, "Feeling really hungry tonight?"

She looked directly at me, ran her tongue across her lips, and answered, "Definitely! But if you're asking about food, I got the second one for tomorrow in case we get snowed in this weekend."

I took her coat and hung it up and then we put the second pizza in the refrigerator. We got the wine along with glasses, plates and so on, and then headed up to the bedroom. By the time we entered, the fire was coming along nicely, and I added a couple of logs while Judy set the food on the floor by the blanket. Then she came over to the side of the room where I had gone to get a couple of candles for the mantle. As I turned off the lights and turned to put the candles in place, she wrapped her arms around my neck and soon we were locked in a deep kiss. When we broke apart for air, she breathed in a husky voice, "Let's eat. I can hardly wait for dessert."

She began to unbutton my shirt and I set the candles on the dresser so I could reciprocate with her clothing. Soon we were both completely naked. We shared one more torrid kiss and reluctantly broke apart. I lit the candles and placed them on the mantle and then we settled on the blankets in front of the fire.

The act of sharing a meal with a lover can, in and of itself, be an extremely erotic experience even if both are fully dressed. Nude, the effect is enhanced a hundred fold. We ate, casually stroking each other, feeding each other bites of pizza and sips of wine. By the time we finished with the food we were both aroused to such a state that we merely pushed the remains aside and began to embrace. In only a few seconds, Judy pushed me down on my back, swung her long leg across my waist, and impaled herself on my rampant member. I think the intense feeling from our coupling surprised both of us and neither of us lasted more than half a minute before I was exploding and pumping my hot semen into her as she, her head thrown back, her legs squeezing me almost hard enough to bruise, convulsed into her own climax.

As we slowly came down from that high place, Judy stretched herself on top of me, leaving me inside as I slowly began to shrink. She kissed me and whispered, "That was good, Paul. I really needed that."

I kissed her back. "That makes two of us - which is exactly the right number. But don't think I'm completely sated yet."

She smiled down at me. "Me either, Lover. I expect a lot more this weekend."

"Don't worry. I still expect a lot more tonight."

She snuggled against me as I let my hand roam over her incredibly sexy bottom. Judy has a small, nicely rounded ass, the muscles as tight as any I've ever seen - and I'm constantly on the lookout for such things. I love the feel of the smooth skin and firm muscles and never miss a chance to caress her there.

We lay together in the warmth of both the fire and the afterglow of our love making and I think we both dozed off for a short time. Suddenly I opened my eyes to the feel of a small, pointed tongue exploring the inside of my right ear. As I sucked in my breath, Judy said, "All right now, Lover. Tell me what this surprise journal is all about."

She rolled off of me and propped herself up on an elbow. I leaned over and kissed her and then slowly pulled myself up. I glanced at the fire and decided to add another couple of logs before going over to my dresser. From a top drawer I pulled out a thick, heavily bound book, the type that could have been an old ledger. I held it up to show her and said, "It's about this. My great uncle's journal from the early nineteen twenties."

I started back towards the blankets, but stopped long enough to pull the curtain aside and glance outside. "Looks like we already have five or six inches out there," I commented. "Want to go out and play in the snow?"

Judy made a face at me. "We're not really dressed for it," she answered. "And besides," she added, "I already have a good seven inches in here." She punctuated this by staring intensely at my crotch.

Now it was my turn to stick out my tongue and I replied, "At least. And I guarantee you'll get at least that much again before too long."

I settled down beside her on the blankets. "As I was saying, this is my great uncle's journal. Let me give you a little history. My great uncle Alex was born in 1894 in Scotland. He had a younger brother, John, who was born in 1910 and later became my grandfather. Alex served in World War I in France and returned to Britain in 1919. I never knew exactly what he did then, but I did know he held several jobs until he moved to a plantation somewhere in the South Pacific in 1922 where he met his wife - my great aunt Susan - and worked there until just before World War II when the Japanese began their invasion of the islands in that part of the world. I know that after the war he moved to the states and eventually became a professor of business right here. In fact, this was his and Susan's house. Susan, by the way, was a medical doctor, and practiced here in town until sometime in the nineteen sixties when she retired.."

"I remember him from when I was a little boy, but I think he died when I as about eight. That would have been in nineteen eighty. Aunt Susan was about three years younger than Alex and she lived until four years ago. After I came back from the three years I spent really working as a civil engineer and took the position with the school, she insisted I move in here - she was still living here on her own and was alert and lively right up until she died in her sleep one night - at the young age of 103. In her will she left me the house. She was still a pretty woman, even in her nineties, and must have been a real looker when she was young. She also had a really lively and ribald sense of humor. She often alluded to some of the wild things she and Alex had done when they were younger. And then she'd kid about going out and looking for a man - not to marry - just to sleep with. I remember one time when she was doing that I suggested she go to one of the singles bars in town but she said there were only kids there. Then she said she preferred to hang around the senior rec center because she could usually find someone in his sixties who thought she still had it. At the time I thought it was just talk, but now I'm not so sure. She may still have been really picking up guys. I do know she and Alex were still having sex regularly when he died."

"Anyway, back to the journal. Last week I was looking through some of the stuff that's still up in the attic and I came across this." I held up the book again. "When I started reading it I found that it was a kind of journal that Alex had kept. It covers the time from just before he left Glasgow in 1922 and the next several months when he was manager of that plantation in the South Pacific. The reason I thought you might find it especially interesting is that I know about your interest in the 'private kingdoms' of that period."

Judy's head swung around and a sudden interest showed in her eyes. She had often told me stories about isolated areas of the world where individuals had set up there own private countries - well, not really countries, but at least private estates - where they ruled with absolute authority. Most people find it hard to believe, but such places were not all that unusual up until the middle of the twentieth century. They flourished in remote areas of the world: Africa, South America, Asia. Places where governments didn't have sufficient interest to interfere and thus let the men run their estates as they wished, administering their own laws and justice and in general having their way in any fashion they wanted. After all, Cecil Rhodes, with the blessing of the British government, ran an entire country that way. None of the others were on that scale, but often covered as much as several hundreds of square miles. When I had read my uncle's journal, I had found that the island plantation where he had worked was one of these places.

"That's right," I continued. "The plantation where my uncle became a general manager, was owned by an expat German who ran the entire island as though there was no higher authority. But to make it even more interesting, I think you'll find that von Holt's ideas were not the usual for such men. Much less draconian and a little more hedonistic. It was definitely an interesting place to work."

I now unequivocally had Judy's full attention. The subject of the private kingdoms was one of her special interests and she had done a great deal of research in the area. I smiled to myself as I watched her sleek, naked body and thought how much more I expected her to be interested in this particular 'kingdom' than in the others she had studied.

"Just where was this place?" she asked.

"That, I'm afraid, we'll never know for sure. My uncle only describes its location in a general way. I have the idea, from a few things I recall him or my aunt saying, that the enterprise ended with the Japanese expansion through the area and that it was never reestablished after the war. All I really know is that it was somewhere generally between Viet Nam and Australia."

"That's a lot of ocean."

"You can pick up a few clues from the journal, but I didn't see anything that would really pin point it."

"OK, OK. Can I see it?"

When Judy got interested in a subject, everything else was forgotten. Now she was ready to start pouring over the old journal, completely oblivious to the fact that she was stark naked. I was mostly kidding when I had said she wouldn't need any clothes for the weekend, but there had been a couple of times when we had stayed nude for over a full day. Judy didn't seen to mind and almost seemed to forget she wasn't wearing clothes. But, then with a body like hers I could see how displaying it might not bother her. The more I thought about it, the better I liked the idea of keeping her naked until Tuesday morning. And I had just thought of something that might make that more likely.

"We've got all weekend. I don't think I'll let you have it just yet." Judy opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say anything I added, "Instead I think I'll read it to you. It's really a very interesting story - and really quite racy in spots."

With this her mouth immediately closed. We sometimes read hot stories to each other, usually while the other is bound and being teased, and both of us find this a real turn-on. Looking at her face I could see the academic who wanted to examine the original article competing with the lusty woman who loved sex and sexy games. Judy is one of the hottest women I have ever known and enjoys sex in nearly every form. At least in any of the forms I've wanted to try with her. So the promise of my reading her a hot story which also happened to be a record of real history was certainly attractive. Finally this seemed to win out and she said, "All right, if I get to look at the real thing later on."

"Certainly. In fact, I'll probably lend it to you to study. That is, if you can keep your hands out of your pants while you read it." This pronouncement served to further peak her interest and I could see she was really beginning to wonder what was in this book."

"This is the real thing, right? Not just something you made up for one of our games?"

"No, it's just as I told you. It really is my uncle's journal, written as it happened, and I have no doubt that he recorded the actual events as they occurred." Then with a mischievous smile, I added, "Even if some of it is so hot I'm not sure how he recorded it without having his hand in his own pants."

I could see that Judy was now definitely hooked. But I decided to do something to string her along a little more. "I'll read it to you, but first I think we should do something to get you in the right frame of mind." Judy looked a question at me as I lay the book down and reached down for her hand. I pulled her to her feet and pulled her into a tight embrace and deep kiss. One of the things which really turn me on about Judy is that she becomes aroused nearly instantly. Before the kiss was three seconds old she was fitting her bare body against my own from shoulder to ankle, her tongue exploring my mouth, and her hands tightly grasping my ass.

We held the kiss for a full minute and then I pulled back and took her wrist to lead her a little ways across the room to where the leather vault stood. "I think I need to warm that tight bottom of yours to keep you thinking along the right lines," I said.

Judy's breath was already coming in rapid, shallow drafts. Now her eyes sparkled at the prospect of a little bondage and spanking and no matter how attractive the journal seemed to the professional historian, it was temporarily put on hold. Instead she said in a sort of pouting teenager's voice, "What's the matter? Have I been a bad girl."

"Not at all," I replied, smiling at her as I started to put on wrist and ankle cuffs of soft leather. I stood her at the side of the vault, facing it, and spread her legs, attaching the ankle cuffs to the legs of the vault. "You haven't really been bad yet at all, but I intend to change that." I bent her over the smooth leather and fastened her wrists to the vault legs on the other side, leaving her tight bottom uppermost and very inviting. "But I think you should be bad. You know I love that tight ass of yours. I love whipping it and I love fucking it. Now I plan on doing both and then I'm going to tie you to the lounge while I read you the journal. I may stop from time to time to tease you, or torment you, or ravish you. And I may keep it up a long time." Judy shivered in delighted anticipation.

I stood watching the perfection of Judy's lovely form lit only by the flickering candle flames and the firelight. The light and shadow played across her smooth skin and I could see her twisting slightly against her bonds as her body demanded stimulation and release. She was breathing quite fast and as I slid my hand between her legs I found she was already dripping. For several minutes I let my hands wander over her wonderful body, caressing her, lightly pinching her hard nipples, and teasing the entry of her wet tunnel and tight rear hole. Then I stepped back and picked up one of our cats. This one had nine soft leather tails, each a foot and a half long and about a half inch wide, atop a sixteen inch polished wood handle. It would sting, but wouldn't do any real damage. We never used a whip or strap hard enough to break the skin or really hurt more than the victim wanted and we always had a safe word, although neither of us had ever needed it.

I dragged the leather tails across her exposed bottom and I saw her shudder so much at the first touch I almost thought she had started to come. Then with no additional warning I brought the lashes down in a fast stroke, snapping the ends on her stretched rump. She gave a small cry, but quickly steadied her bottom for another blow. I began to whip her harder and harder, until each stroke was bringing a cry and leaving red lines across her perfect skin. It was obvious that the strokes were beginning to really hurt, but we had found we enjoyed the stimulation of such pain and both of us knew how to stop before it became too much to tolerate.


Spice Plantation Ch. 01



I landed blows on her back and legs, across her flanks and onto the taut globes of her hanging breasts, even catching a nipple with a snapping leather end a couple of times. Twice I stopped and used my fingers to penetrate her tunnel, wetting them with her flowing juices, and then pushing a slick finger into her rear hole. Then I finally delivered a dozen really hard strokes to her unprotected ass before dropping the whip and moving behind her to push my rigid cock into her hot and waiting pussy. I stroked in and out only two or three times and then pulled out completely, bringing another groan from the bound woman. I quickly added a blob of KY to the end of my already slick member and immediately began to push it against her puckered rear hole.

As you might imagine from my description of her, Judy's rear is incredibly tight, but her tremendous muscle control let her relax herself so I could push inside. The first time we tried anal sex it was new to both of us and I took a long time warming her up and penetrating. We discovered we both loved this activity and since then had gone the "back door route" a number of times and Judy had learned to relax herself at will. Now I slid in to the hilt in one long slow stroke. It was still an incredibly tight tunnel, but that was totally under Judy's control as she clamped down hard enough to produce unbelievable pleasure for both of us. I held myself fully embedded for at least a whole minute and then began to move in and out. Judy was also using her muscles to increase our mutual enjoyment and I could sense her arousal increasing by the second. After a dozen slow, long in and out strokes Judy suddenly gasped, "Now, Paul! Fuck me. Fuck my ass hard." At that encouragement I lost any inclination to go slowly and rammed myself in hard and deep and both of us immediately started to come.

A few minutes later I kissed her back one more time and slowly removed my shrinking tool. I released her from the vault but left her cuffs in place. As soon as she was free, Judy turned and put her arms around my neck for another of those wonderful full body kisses. This almost had me ready to take her again right then, but I brought myself under control and we both ducked into the bathroom for a few seconds to wipe ourselves clean.

When we came back out I pulled the leather lounge over near the fireplace. This is a custom built piece, leather covered and wide enough for both of us to lie on at the same time. We have to lie pretty close, of course, but that's certainly not a problem. The lounge leaves us half lying, half sitting. I arranged Judy on her back on one side and fastened her wrists to the frame behind her head. I spread her ankles and anchored them at the foot. This left her open and available and before I did anything else I stopped to suck on her nipples until both were standing out, swollen and hard. Then I ran my tongue across her stomach and swirled it around her belly button.

I added another log to the fire and arranged a small reading light. Then I took the journal and settled on the longue beside my beautiful captive where I could both read the book and casually stroke, caress and tease her bound body. I intended that this was going to be a long night. The wind blew the snow hard outside the curtained windows as I opened my uncle's journal and began to read.

---------------------------------------

January 14, 1922.

I may really have done it today. We had a meeting this afternoon of all the so-called executives. I had spent the morning with three foremen trying to straighten out a problem on the line and was in a bad mood anyway. I was late for the meeting which I knew was going to be a waste of time. It was supposed to be about some advertising policy about which I really had nothing to say and I needed the time to work on real production problems. If I couldn't get these solved, there wouldn't be anything to advertise at all. I went straight to the meeting without bothering to get my coat, tighten my tie, or even roll my sleeves back down. My hands probably even still smelled of fish. Of course I know the president has a real problem with managers who do not dress as he expects, but I was too tired and harried to care. Then to make matters worse, when I came into the meeting - late, as I said - Mr. Campbell stopped everything and just looked at me. "Need a little longer to get ready, Alex?" he asked in a sarcastic tone.

I shouldn't have, but I couldn't seem to help myself and answered, "No, sir. I'm ready."

Everything seemed to freeze for several seconds and then Mr. Campbell just gave me a hard look and then went on with the meeting. For the rest of the time he acted as though I wasn't there at all. I'm afraid I had better start looking at the want ads again.

January 15.

Well, my guess was right. When I got to my office this morning, there was already a message that Mr. Campbell wanted to see me. This time I did take time to make sure my appearance was up to what he would expect, but that was no help. He didn't beat around the bush at all, but gave me my walking papers with only a couple of sentences of comment. I doubt if I will get a favorable recommendation. In fact he told me to clean out my desk and be gone by noon.

Later

Perhaps there is some balance in the universe. After I left the factory - before noon - I went to the Laird's Inn for a bite to eat and perhaps a pint or two while I could still afford it. I also needed to think about finding another job. As I sat down, Millie, the barmaid, came over and said, "Oh, Mr. Alex. Such luck that you would come in today. The gentleman at the table over there was just asking after you. Someone told him you might be found here or at least maybe he could learn where to find you. But now that you're here, I'll just tell him."

Before I could ask anything else, she was gone and a few seconds later the man in question came over and asked it he could join me. I watched as he approached me. He was not tall - about five foot six - and had the look of someone who usually worked with books and papers. Still, he was well built and in good condition, with a smooth stride, well muscled, and not at all fat. Most striking was his deep tan, not something that was common in wintertime Britain. He stopped next to the table and said, "Mr. Alex Robertson? I'm Nathan Clark. A Mr. Fred Hill recommended I get in touch with you. Do you mind if I join you and buy you some luncheon?"

Freddy Hill was an old army mate of mine. We weren't really close and I had last seen him here in this inn about eight months ago. I had no idea why he would recommend me for anything, but my curiosity was aroused - not to mention that until I knew where or even if I would be working, I didn't mind having someone else buy my food. I stood and shook hands with Mr. Clark and invited him to sit.

We ordered food and drink and when Millie had gone I finally said, "Well, I certainly want to thank you for the meal, Mr. Clark, but I have no idea how I might help you or why Freddy would recommend me. In fact, I don't know what he seems to have recommended me for."

Mr. Clark smiled and replied, "You're most welcome Mr. Robertson, but it may be that it is I who can do something for you. I happened to meet Mr. Hill in Rome a week ago. You see, I'm here on a combination of holiday and recruitment mission. I understand you are a production manager for a salmon canning factory. Correct?"

Not wanting to admit that my stint in this position had ended an hour earlier, I merely nodded. He went on. "I work as the chief accountant and business manager for a plantation which produces spices and some teas. We are looking for a general production manager to replace the man who will be leaving. Our requirements are somewhat unorthodox and Mr. Hill seemed to think I might find you to our liking. From what I've been able to learn already, I think you just might be. Let me tell you a little about our operation and ask a few questions to see if you might be interested."

I nodded again. I was certainly interested in at least listening to him. Working outdoors in a climate which obviously was a far cry from Scotland's cold and wet winter would have held my interest even had I still been employed. As it was, it seemed as though it might have been fate which brought Mr. Clark into my world. The only thing which really concerned me was that if Mr. Clark went around locally and asked questions about me, he might find that I had held four jobs in the last eighteen months and had been let go from each of them. In each case there was never a complaint about my work - in fact, quite the opposite. The problem was that I could not stand the artificial rules placed on me, such as the coat and tie which had caused my most recent dismissal. I am a very independent minded individual and one might even say a non-conformist. I have given serious thought to relocating in the United States or Canada, as I have been led to believe that, especially in the western parts, such behavior is not uncommon or resented. (I have also heard that the women are somewhat more relaxed and non-conformist in those areas.) I can follow rules when there is a reason and did so in the army enough to earn three stripes on my sleeve and ended my tour as a sergeant. However, silly rules and such nonsense rub me the wrong way. That's why I also lost three stripes in the army, even though I did earn them back each time.

"Go right ahead, Mr. Clark, I'm interested. However, it might be easier if you called me Alex."

"Thank you, Alex. And I'm Nate. Well, as I said I work on a spice plantation located in the south Pacific Ocean. The plantation occupies an entire island which is about twenty square miles in extent. The plantation is owned by an ex-German named von Holt. We assume he has a first name but no one has ever heard it. In fact, we suspect he even awarded the 'von' to himself. He was born in Germany, but left the country when he was only two and has never been back. He has no feeling about the war and holds no opinions either for or against either side. In fact, the island itself is probably owned by the French. I say probably, because there is some dispute in the region between the Dutch and the French, but surprisingly neither country seems to much care. Von Holt gives a sum of money each year to both the French and Dutch factors in the area and neither involves himself. That area of the world is somewhat isolated to say the least. Even though many of the areas are nominally owned by France, Germany, Netherlands, or even Britain, no one pays much attention to the home countries. In fact, for all we saw in our small area of islands, the Great War might as well not have taken place."

This statement really surprised me. There were a great number of men, myself included, who would like to forget that the Great War ever took place. We couldn't. Many of the things we saw will be with us forever and I can only hope they fade with time. A place that had ignored it sounded more desirable than Eden.

He sat back and hesitated a second. Finally he said, "I should explain that Herr von Holt is a somewhat unusual man. He owns the plantation in its entirety along with the entire island. He is the only government which has sway there and can decide everything from work assignments, to hiring and firing, to civil and criminal justice. But he is far from a draconian despot and is actually a rather enlightened ruler. Some of his rules may seem strange, but I assure you that you will find none of them unpleasant."

"The plantation labor force is exclusively from the native population of one of the neighboring islands. This place was only discovered by Westerners about thirty years ago and the people there have lived for centuries in a near paradise. Unlike some of the island tribes, they are not at all war like and get along mostly on fishing and gathering of the native fruits and vegetables. They are a pleasant, relaxed people and might even be described as somewhat child like in their attitude of wonder and play towards the whole world. But they are actually very intelligent and industrious and make excellent workers. Mr. von Holt offers them generous - in fact, much more than generous - wages and compensation and provides excellent living accommodations and food. He provides medical care and even runs a school to teach his workers to read and write. He does have certain work requirements, but all the workers know of them before signing on. There is never a labor shortage and never any complaints about his treatment of them. There are also several Westerners as supervisory staff. Myself, the General manager, a doctor and two nurses, a teacher, and two mechanics. Mr. von Holt himself is rarely there and satisfies himself with annual or semi-annual visits. The General manager and I pretty much run the place."

"If you are interested in the position and if I decide you are the man we want, you will be offered a four year contract, renewable at mutual agreement." He then named a sum that was four times what I was getting in Glasgow. And, I realized, there would be no taxes or travel, food, or housing expenses. It sounded far too good to be true.

He asked and I assured him I was at least interested. Then he smiled and said, "Now I'm going to ask you some questions and try to get your attitude on a few things. There are no right or wrong answers, so just try to tell me what you really think. As you can image we want someone who will really fit in with the plantation, and I will admit we have a few - call them 'quirks' - that I'll tell you about if we come to an agreement. Don't worry, if they bother you, you will still have a chance to back out." Now I was really getting curious. What sort of place was this? It already sounded like a private kingdom, but just what did this von Holt have going on there. I agreed to answer him truthfully and waited for his first question.

"What would you say if you were required to wear a formal uniform for work each day?"

He had hit one of my personal red flags. Sure, there were no right or wrong answers. I thought I saw the whole wonderful opportunity going up in smoke, but I answered, "I'm not sure I could agree to that. I can't stand formal clothing."

I was surprised when Mr. Clark nodded to himself and smiled. He didn't seem at all put out by my reply. "All right. What about religion? Do you have a problem with working with people of differing religions?"

"Not at all. I was raised as a Presbyterian, but I'll admit I'm not very faithful. I've worked with Catholics and Jews and even a couple of Arabs. What a man believes is between him and his God. It's not my place to tell him what to think. I don't care if a man is a pagan as long as he doesn't try to force me to be one."

Again Nate nodded to himself. "As I said all of our workers are native islanders. All are young - generally between about eighteen and thirty. We hire only single workers, both men and women. Tell me Alex, what is your opinion of sex?"

I nearly choked on my ale. Of course in the army the subject came up all the time, but in a job interview? How was I supposed to answer that? Then I decided I might as well say what I really thought. "I guess you mean between the workers? I'm not one to look down on anyone for doing what nature seems to have designed us to really enjoy. I don't give a fig if they're married or not. The only place I'd draw the line is if one of them didn't want it. I don't hold with rape in any form and I don't care if the woman is an island native, an English Lady, or even a Hong Kong prostitute. I will admit I have enjoyed my share of the young women of France during the war, but I never forced, bribed, or threatened my way. Most of the lads in the army felt the same way and the few times I heard of someone forcing himself, it seemed he usually met with an accident and spent some weeks in hospital."

Nate smiled at my enthusiasm and said, "I agree. But I was asking even a little broader. For example, what about activities between those of the same gender or among groups of more than two?"

Again I was surprised, but managed to swallow my drink without choking on it. "I feel sorry for such men. They can never know the full rapture available to the rest of us. But I have no animosity towards them. As for the second part of your inquiry, I will admit to once in France enjoying the bed of two lovely young mademoiselles. I was told that such things were not too uncommon in France and after that night I can certainly see why. I'm not sure our British girls are so open minded."

"Are you offended by nudity?"

Where was he getting these questions? "Nate, I spent three years in the army. You must know that the sight of other men in the shower and so on is not unusual. If you are referring to female nudity.." I stopped for a second and smiled. " ...then I'm only offended by it as much as by a beautiful sunset. I would not be unhappy if most women - at least the young, pretty ones - rejected clothing whenever possible."

Nate smiled at my somewhat flippant answer, but seemed satisfied. "All right. One more question. Mr. von Holt is firm about some crimes, such as theft or destruction of property or rape. They are very rare, but he believes in immediate punishment and if necessary the offender will pe punished and sent home immediately. As I told you, Mr. von Holt is the sole administrator of justice. If you were General manager you might find it necessary to carry out such duties. Do you feel you could?"

"I already told you how I feel about rape. As to the others, you say he is generous with the workers, so there should be no excuse for theft. I believe I would have no problem enforcing those rules."

"Very well, Alex. I will telegraph Mr. von Holt tonight and should receive a reply by early tomorrow. I can't promise anything yet, but I think things look very favorable. Perhaps we could meet here tomorrow at, say, six for dinner and perhaps discuss a possible contract?"

I still wasn't sure any of this was real, but I wasn't going to walk away. I know I'm a good manager and this plantation sounded like it might be a place I could work without being tossed out in three months. "Certainly, Nate, and I look forward to it. I think this might work out to the advantage of both of us."

January 16

I spent the day in my flat looking through the want ads in case the dream I experienced at lunch yesterday might not work out. At a quarter of six I left for the Laird's Inn and as I entered, two minutes before six, I saw Mr. Clark already seated at a table in the corner. I started towards him and when he noticed me he stood and smiled and waved me on over. From the look on his face I felt my hopes grow. "Good evening, Alex. I won't keep you waiting. Mr. von Holt agreed so I'm prepared to offer you a contract at the wages we discussed yesterday. But let's order dinner first."

My head was swimming but I still managed to order supper and an ale. During the day I had checked and my bank balance was a princely sum of twenty-seven pounds, eight. The wages Nate had mentioned yesterday would dwarf that in no time. Especially if I didn't need to pay for room or board. I hoped there wouldn't be too much in the way of special clothing or anything and I also wasn't sure how I could pay for a ticket to reach there - wherever there was.

Nate began to go over the details once again. The contract would be for four years at the wages he had discussed. There would be a house - not just a room, but a small house. All meals were included. Not only that but he already had a steamship ticket for Singapore, scheduled to depart on the twenty-sixth of this month. Ten days! Our meal came and we began to eat. Nate informed me he would be returning on the same ship so I wouldn't have to find my way alone.




Spice Plantation Ch. 01



I asked about the other Westerners. The two mechanics were Bob and George - I didn't catch last names. Both were Americans. There were two nurses - Jenny and Deborah - and Dr. Hartley. The nurses were from England and Dr. Hartley was another American. There was also the school teacher, Joan, English by birth, but raised in India. Beyond that I could expect about two hundred fifty native workers, about evenly split between men and women. At least all of the staff spoke English and Nate informed me that English was the language Mr. von Holt had chosen for the school in which he educated the native workers. He did explain that beyond the staff and Mr. von Holt's rare visits. I probably wouldn't see any other Westerners at all.

The contract specified that I could have three weeks each year of holiday. If I wanted I could save them and use six weeks every other year and von Holt would provide a round trip ticket to anywhere in the world I wanted to go.

I asked Nate about what I would need to bring. Would there be any special work clothes or anything like that? He seemed to be holding back a laugh and then settled and began to explain. The climate was tropical. There was never a need for jackets and most of the western men wore only shorts - usually made from old American blue jeans - or the native sarongs to work. Then he said, "You balked a little when I mentioned the possibility of a uniform for work. Let me assure you your choice of clothing is in no way limited. But let me also explain about one of von Holt's rules. This applies to the native workers and is not enforced for the westerners. Mr. von Holt is a great believer in the natural theory of living. That's one of the reasons he settled in that part of the world. A number of years ago he happened on the island where our workers are from and has described it as an earthly Eden, a real paradise. He decided to model the plantation after it as much as possible. Somehow I suspect there may have been some additional reasons. But whatever the original cause, one of the conditions of employment which he has set forth is that whenever possible the workers must be nude."

I looked at him in astonishment. "Are you serious?" I asked.

"Very," he replied. "The men wear a breechclout for protection when doing rough field work, but the women, who mostly work in the preparation sheds and around the dwellings remain completely naked. Likewise when the men return from the fields they strip also."

I visualized dozens, even hundreds of naked men and women. Especially naked women. The pictures I had seen of the islanders from that part of the world had shown unusually attractive people. The women were small of stature but beautifully formed. At last I managed to ask, "The workers don't mind this?"

Nate smiled. "No, in fact they love it. You are probably not familiar with that part of the world, but the people grow up in a natural paradise. There is no nudity taboo and usually the most they would wear would be a kind of wrap around garment called a sarong. This is a lot like a kilt and might be worn by both men and women. Also the young people growing up have no real sexual taboo and sex between them is not looked down on at all. Once a year the workers are taken back to their own island for a two week holiday and von Holt allows each of them to choose a dress, or pants or something made with trade cloth. The women love the bright colors and the men usually pick blue jeans. They wear these to show off in their home villages, but when they come back to the plantation, they once again go nude." In a somewhat rare display of feeling Nate added, "I do love the view."

I let this information filter through my churning mind. "Well, I believe I can get used to that." Then I smiled and added, "Too bad the rule doesn't apply to the western women as well."

Nate laughed and then said, "It doesn't. However, remember I said there are no restrictions on how the staff dresses. Most of the staff has "gone native" to the extent that they often follow the dress code even without the rule."

This opened new possibilities. Two nurses and a school teacher. Oh, well. They would probably all be old and fat.

We discussed the duties and, despite the fact that I had no experience with processing spices, both Nate and I agreed I could learn the details easily and that there seemed to be nothing that should cause a problem. Finally, less than thirty-six hours since I first met Nate and heard of this position, I made a decision which will probably alter my life completely, and signed the contract.

January 25.

The last week has been more busy that I imagined. Although I have little family here and less worldly goods, I found that taking care of even this small amount in preparing for an extended absence could take a lot of time. I managed to get away up north for two days to see my parents and my brother, John. My parents were very supportive, I think because they understand what my mother calls my "free spirit" and my father refers to as stubbornness or more charitably, my non-conformity. John is only eleven and I don't think he has quite grasped how far away I'm going.

I had to close my bank account, settle with my landlord, pack a few belongings and either give away or take to my parents' home the rest of them. There was no particular girl I was leaving and I didn't really have any close friends here in the city. And, as the situation stands, I had no problems to resolve with my employment. Tonight I'll take the train to London where tomorrow I'll board a ship for a new life.

---------------------------------------

I closed the book, but continued to let my open hand stroke Judy's bare pubes. She once told me she first shaved her mound when she got a small bathing suit and saw how little would be left after she trimmed it. Then she found she liked the feeling and has kept it bare ever since. Whatever the reason, I love it this way. The feel of the smooth skin under my sliding fingers is always exciting, not to mention the sensation when I run my tongue across it.

Judy had been listening with rapt attention. "You're not making this up, are you? The journal really says the workers had to be naked?"

I stroked a little more. "No, that's exactly what it says. The men could wear the breechclouts when working in the fields, but other times - and for the women, almost all the time - skin was the order of the day." I could see the signs of excitement on Judy's face and body as she imagined hundreds of naked islanders. Unlike my uncle at that time, we had seen a lot of pictures of the natives of that part of the world as well as full color movies and tapes. They were some of the most well formed and attractive people on earth.

I decided to take advantage of Judy's thoughts. "Just imagine," I began, "hot, tropical sun, clear seas, white sand beaches, and everywhere you look, beautiful, naked people. Lovely girls with swaying hips and pouting breasts. Handsome men, muscles rippling down their backs, tall with strong arms, and everything they have clearly visible. And no inhibitions." Judy was starting to breathe rapidly again and I lowered my head to suck at first her left and then her right nipple. I let my tongue begin to trace patterns across her smooth front, slowly working my way south, until it began to slide over her smooth mound. I settled between her legs and applied my tongue to her dripping pussy, licking with broad, slow strokes and then flicking the tip of my tongue back and forth across her protruding clit.

Judy was starting to go mad, straining against her bonds and squirming against my mouth. I continued to tease and suddenly she could take it no more and cried, "Oh, Paul, I need you. Now! Fuck me, Paul. Oh, God, fuck me!"

Judy wasn't the only one having a hard time waiting. At her command, I moved up her body and held myself with just the tip of my cock pushing against her dripping pussy lips. "Now, Paul. Please. I need you inside me. Oh, please fuck me!"

How could I resist such a plea? I didn't. I pushed myself all the way inside as deeply as I could go and Judy strained against me as much as her bonds allowed. Then I began to move in and out. This wasn't one of our slow, passionate sessions. No, now I rammed myself in as hard and fast as I could, withdrawing nearly all the way and slamming back inside with a vengeance. Needless to say we didn't last a long time. In not very long we both were trembling in orgasm. As I came I grabbed her ass cheeks and dug my fingers in hard, pulling us together as closely as possible.

As we caught our breath, I let my grip on her ass relax a little. I lay on top of her for a few more seconds and then began to release her from the lounge.

"Paul, that journal really turned me on. Does the rest of it live up?"

"There really hasn't been anything in there yet except that Nate told him the workers are always naked. This is nothing, just wait. What's turned you on is that incredibly hot imagination of yours. You are just a really hot piece, Woman."

Judy gave me a mock slap on the ass. "You shouldn't really talk to me that way, Sir," she said.

"I'm sorry, My Lady. It was rather chauvinistic. I should have said you are a really hot piece, Professor Woman."

This was too much and Judy and I both broke down laughing. "Come on," I said. Let's take a quick trip to the bathroom, put another couple of logs on the fire, and then if you're not too tired I can read you some more of the journal.

Before we settled in again I looked out of the window. There was now at least a foot of snow and the wind was blowing hard. Well, I didn't plan on going anywhere else this weekend. Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.

I added the logs and then turned to Judy. "Maybe we should do something else to keep you from getting bored this time."

"I'm not likely to be bored."

"Never the less, I think maybe I should add this." I held up a butt plug. "Come on, Lover, bend over." Judy loved the feel of the plug - as I did myself - and didn't hesitate to bend forward and grab her ankles, spreading her legs apart. I teased her body for a couple of minutes and then began to rub lube around and into her puckered rear hole. As my finger penetrated she sucked in her breath, but also wiggled her bottom back against my hand to get me in deeper. I rubbed the slick substance around and round and finally pulled my finger reluctantly out, but replaced it with the plastic plug. I began to work the smooth intruder in and out, each time going deeper and deeper, until finally I gave a hard push, popping the large rounded bump inside her ring of muscle and bringing a small cry. Judy shivered as her anus closed around the narrow part of the shaft and the larger part gave her that really full filling she loved.

I gave her a long hard kiss and then led her back to the lounge and soon had her arranged on her back once again, her wrists and ankles spread and bound to the top and bottom of the frame. I lowered myself beside her and once again began to read the old journal.



Spice Plantation Ch. 02



Spice Plantation - Ch. 2

For nearly a minute I watched the firelight painting Judy's beautiful naked skin with golden light and flickering shadows. I slowly ran my hand across her bare breast, over her flat stomach, on down over her bare mound, and along the inside of a silken thigh. Then I returned to the open book in my lap and again began to read to her.

------------------------------------------

February 11.

We arrived in Singapore this morning and Nate immediately began checking for another ship to take us the rest of the way. As luck would have it a small coaster will be departing this afternoon for a trip through the islands. Nate arranged our passage to some island I've never heard of where he said we could pick up the ship which brings the plantation supplies and collects its products. If all goes well we should arrive at the plantation in about ten days.

February 20.

The last week has held no major event and yet nearly every hour brought something new and exciting to my senses. I've never been in this part of the world before and the tropical climate, the azure waters, the white sand of island beaches and the overwhelming green of their vegetation has not ceased to amaze me.

We left the coaster at the island whose name I still can't quite get and transferred to the supply ship with only a single overnight stay at a small hotel located yards from the lulling sound of the surf lapping against one of the finest beaches I've ever seen: so white it looked like sugar and with sand so fine it almost felt talcum smooth to the touch. In the last week or so I've spent enough time either on deck or outside that I now have lost any trace of the winter pallor of Glasgow. I have also spent much of my time during the last several weeks talking with Nate. I now believe he is perfectly serious about the attire - or lack of it - among the workers and staff. To this end he has convinced me to adapt myself to the expected conditions by wearing only shorts on deck and now I have a fairly dark tan.

I should say that I'm still not sure about going nude among outer Western staff members - especially the women, although I don't think I will mind their doing so. I have always been a somewhat uninhibited person, but I've never previously run into a situation even approaching this. At any length, I am getting used to shorts as my sole garment. I should also mention that, as a good Scotsman of Highland descent, I have always worn kilts. When Nate described the native sarongs which seem to be popular with the staff, I immediately saw the similarity to the kilts I owned and have thus brought a pair or them with me. I feel this might be a reasonable compromise until I become more adapted to wearing a sarong - or even less.

I have asked Nate exactly where this island plantation is located, but he has indicated that at the specific request of von Holt the location remains as confidential as possible against the eventuality of it becoming widely known and drawing unwanted visitors. I can understand this. After all, if it became known exactly where to find an island with over a hundred young women who habitually went about their activities without clothing, just imagine the influx of an incredible variety of men interested in, at the very least, viewing such attractive scenery - not to mention the do-gooders who would descend with the intention of "civilizing" the "poor unfortunates". Since the ship's captain knows the location and since I'm not going anywhere the ship is not, I have contented myself to remain ignorant of the exact destination.

Nate tells me that we should reach the plantation sometime tomorrow morning.

February 21

We sighted the island about nine this morning and by noon had moved in and tied the ship alongside a wooden dock near the center shore of a protected bay. As soon as the ship was made fast a seeming hoard of young native men - wearing sarongs - appeared to materialize from the bush and began to unload supplies in an orderly fashion. I could also see another line of men bring an array of crates and kegs towards the dock. These, I was told, contained the processed spices which are the product of this enterprise. As soon as Nate saw that the unloading and loading were proceeding in an orderly fashion, he suggested that we leave the ship and he would show me around and introduce me to the other staff members. Nate was wearing one of his ever present sarongs but I had chosen to wear a kilt in the Robertson plaid along with a light weight white shirt. Nate had merely looked at the shirt and my wool kilt and said, "It's probably going to be a little warm for that before long," but had made no other comment.

We moved several hundred yards along a wide path through lush tropical vegetation and emerged into a large clearing. I could see a sizable building, built in the tropical style with thatched roof and whitewashed walls. This, Nate informed me, was the main building containing offices, records, a dining area for the staff, and other such things as were necessary to the operation of the plantation. Separated from the main building and each other by several yards were a number of smaller buildings. Nate pointed to them in turn and indicated the clinic, the school room, kitchen, storage sheds, workshops, and a number of individual units he said were housing for staff and some of the natives who acted as foremen (and forewomen?) and provided labor around the main area. The main processing sheds were a little farther along and in a slightly different direction was the housing for the remainder of the native workers.

We entered the main building and Nate pointed out his office and then led me to a small room with a desk, a table and some filing space which he indicated was to be my own working area. He continued the tour past several other rooms serving different functions. We entered a room which contained a long table with a dozen or more chairs surrounding it. "This is the room used for staff dining," Nate explained. "We don't always eat together, but frequently we have dinner here as a group."

As Nate was speaking, a native girl, I'd guess about nineteen or twenty, entered through a door on the far side of the room. She was carrying a stack of plates but as she saw us, she stopped and said, "Oh, Mr. Nate! You came back. Dinner here tonight?"

"That's right, Che. I came with the boat and, yes, I will be eating here tonight, as will Mr. Alex. Mr. Alex is our new General Manager and will be taking Mr. James place."

The girl, Che, turned to me and, smiling, dipped her head slightly. "Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Alex. I am Che and I work in the kitchen."

To say I stared would be an understatement. Che was only a little over five foot, but her face and figure were nearly as perfectly formed as I could imagine. And it didn't take a lot of imagination because she was completely nude. Moreover, even the small triangular patch of hair at the junction of her thighs which was common to all women of my close acquaintance was either missing or had been shaved or plucked. I tried to reply to her greeting and it took me twice clearing my throat before I got out, "I am certainly pleased to see you also, Che." Then as I realized I had used the verb "see" instead of "meet" my face took on a shade of red I'm sure was visible even through my tan.

If either Nate of Che noticed my discomfort they made no indication. Che smiled brightly at me once again, gave a slight dip of her head and then set the plates on the end of the table before turning and leaving the room by the same door through which she had entered. I will say the view of her retreating was just as enthralling as that of her entering.

"There are about a dozen and a half girls who work around the main building or in the clinic or school," Nate explained. Ly-mei acts as sort of a supervisor for them. If you ever need any help with finding things around here, or want any food or anything between meals, or that sort of thing, just ask Ly-mei."

I was beginning to recover slightly and I turned towards Nate and asked, "Are all of the dozen and a half as lovely as Che?"

Nate laughed. "Yes, and also as well displayed." I began to turn red again. "The islanders in this part of the world are some of the most well formed peoples on earth. The group from the island where von Holt recruits them - that island is about fifteen miles south of here, by the way - that group is especially pleasing to the eye. Don't worry, Alex. When I first came here, it took me a little while to stop staring myself."

We left the main building and went over to a nearby structure which Nate informed me was the main kitchen. As he described the set up I was surprised to learn that the plantation had running water supplied to the kitchen, a main bath house, and a couple of other places. A similar arrangement was true of the kitchen and bath house at the worker housing area. Nate explained that the two mechanics, Bob and George, had devised the system. There was some fresh water on the island: rains trapped in a bowl-like lake which Nate said was a bubble left from an extinct volcano. However, this probably would not have been enough for all the washing needs of two or three hundred workers so Bob and George had devised a system which used sea water for a shower bath arrangement. Everyone used this to wash and then rinsed with the fresh water. They had also devised a sanitary system for the plantation's needs.

We entered the kitchen building and I saw there were about a dozen workers, all busy, all women, and, yes, all naked (except for a couple working at the stoves who wore aprons), engaged in various activities. All of these looked as lovely as Che had and, indeed, I saw Che across the room. She smiled at me and then turned to talk to two of the other women who were with her, no doubt pointing me out. This was confirmed a second later when they both turned in my direction and smiled at me before turning back to each other and giggling excitedly. Nate led me over to a slightly older woman - maybe in her mid to late twenties - and introduced me to Ly-mei. She was as lovely as all the rest of the women but something, perhaps her slight number of additional years or her somewhat taller stature or maybe just the look in her eyes, lent an aurora of authority to her. She was as naked as the others except for a very short apron around her waist. This was only about eight inches in length and had two small pockets which obviously served to carry a small notebook and some other papers. It reached from side to side only to the middle of her hip bones and left her completely bare in back. She also had a fountain pen hanging between her pert breasts from a small gold chain. Later Nate also told me that along with being very practical, this was a symbol of authority among the natives.

Just as we were turning to leave the kitchen building, a young woman, about twenty-five and five foot three with chestnut hair tied back with a small ribbon, entered through the door. The woman was obviously Western although she had a deep tan, her smooth skin almost glowing with a warm, buttery color. Her tan was easy to observe for all she was wearing was a short sarong which covered her only from waist to mid thigh. The native women all had firm breasts, though they tended towards the small side. This woman, however, had breasts which stood out from her slender frame in fairly large, firm hemispheres, topped by dark areolae and large nipples. She walked with her shoulders back, not attempting in the least to minimize her magnificent assets, but also not as though she was trying to show them off. They were merely accepted as belonging. She turned slightly and saw Nate and suddenly let out a squeal and ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him hard. When she broke the kiss after what seemed a long time, she said, "Nate, I didn't know you were back."

"I've only been here a few minutes and was just on my way to the school room now," Nate replied, slightly out of breath himself. "I was showing our new General Manager around. Alex, meet Joan. Joan, this is Alex."

Joan turned to me and said, "I'm really happy to meet you, Alex. I'm sure you're going to like it here."

I did my best not to stare and managed to smile and say, "I'm sure I will. I like the looks of everything I've seen so far."

Joan laughed, a deep throaty laugh, and said, "I'm sure you've been able to see a few things to like, but just wait."

I once more took on a crimson hue and Nate said, "Don't tease him, Joan. You remember how it was getting used to this place."

"I'm sorry, Alex," Joan replied. "I just couldn't resist. It is quite a contrast to most everywhere else I've been, even in this part of the world. But I'm sure you'll soon come to love it here as much as we do." Then a smile crept into her eyes that I can only describe as naughty. "The scenery is fantastic."

She then put her arm around Nate in a way that implied, if not ownership, at least certain privileges, and said, "Come on, Darling. I'll help you show Alex around."

Nate responded by squeezing her around her waist and turned towards me. "I guess I never explained that Joan and I are, in fact, quite close and share a house."

"No reason why you should have, Nate," I responded, while thinking that even if Joan was taken I could still look (and look I certainly would!) and there were still two other Western women - the nurses - that I might find interesting. And if not that, why, I had nothing against the native girls. I could easily enjoy their company for a long time.

We left the kitchen building and Nate pointed out the large bath house building and then headed us towards the clinic. We entered into a medium sized room with several benches where patients could obviously wait their turn. One man in a sarong waited on one of the benches. There was a small bandage on one of his arms. There was a desk behind which sat a young woman, dressed as all the others had been. She, too, had a fountain pen hanging between her breasts on a small gold chain. She looked up at Nate and smiled excitedly. "You are back, Mr. Nate," she exclaimed.

Nate said, "Lhei, this is our new General Manager, Mr. Alex. Alex, the is Lhei. She helps Dr. Hartley and the nurses run the clinic. In fact, she is a pretty good nurse herself, even if she's had to learn it all on the job, so to speak."

Lhei gave me a frank look up and down. I don't think she was evaluating my health. She looked at my shirt, now spotted with sweat in several areas, and said, "Mr. Alex, you should not wear so much here. The heat not good for you."

Nate saved me from replying. "It will take him a few days to learn that, Lhei. Mr. Alex comes from a place where it is cold much of the time. You know how it is with the new staff."

Lhei, looking only the tiniest bit abashed, ducked her head slightly, but I could see a laugh hiding in her eyes.

"Are Dr. Hartley, Miss Jenny and Miss Deborah free?" Nate asked.

"Dr. Hartley go to Trawa. Be back tomorrow. I think Miss Jenny and Miss Deborah almost finished. I go see." She stood and went through a door in the wall behind her while my eyes locked on the saucy roll of her tight buttocks. I quickly brought my eyes back around, but I think Joan had already noticed the direction of my gaze.

While she was in the inner room, Nate turned to me and explained, "Trawa is their home island I spoke of. Dr. Hartley occasionally goes over there to treat the villagers. With Mr. von Holt's strong approval, I should add."

A few seconds later Lhei came back out and said, "Miss Jenny said to go in now."

Nate and Joan walked around her desk and through the door with me following slightly behind. We entered into a short hallway with a couple of doors opening off of it. The nearest door was open and we went inside. Inside were two young blonde women wearing short white lab coats. These came only to mid thigh and had the top three buttons undone. It was almost certain that these were their only garments. There was also a native man in a sarong, sitting on the examining table, but I was looking much more closely at the two nurses. Old and fat indeed! Both were in their early twenties and extremely attractive. Their hair was nearly the same color of blonde, bleached by the sun, and their skin was smooth and tanned by that same tropical sun. I thought back to my earlier fear that the Western staff would be "old and fat" and felt great relief that I had been so far wrong. I was approving of von Holt's and Nate's selection of staff members more and more by the minute. As I watched I saw one of the nurses was finishing off a small clean bandage on the man's right calf.

As we entered, the other blonde turned and, recognizing Nate, gave a little squeal and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him hard. This kiss didn't last nearly as long as the one Joan had given him, but was almost as passionate. She pulled away and excitedly said, "Debs, Nate is back." Then she looked me over and added. "And look what he's brought with him."

The second nurse tied off the bandage and looked up. Her eyes lit up and she rounded the table to give Nate a kiss, the twin of the one he had just received. I noticed during this that Joan didn't seem in the least put out by the display of affection. I would have expected a woman, living with a man, married or not, to be a little upset when another beautiful woman gave him a kiss like that, but it didn't seem to bother her at all. Things must be more different here that I imagined.

"Alex, in case you haven't guessed, these are our two nurses, Jenny and Deborah. And, girls, this is Alex, our new General Manager."

The two women came over and each gave me a frank appraisal. "Hi, Deborah said." She looked at my shirt and kilt. "Let me guess. From Scotland?"

I smiled and admitted I came from that land. Jenny also looked closely at my apparel. "I see you haven't gone native yet. You'll learn."

"Jen, leave him alone," Joan said. "He's just gotten here." Then she added, "I'm sure you'll get a chance soon."

Nate cleared his throat and asked, "Jen and Deb, are you two having dinner up at the main building tonight?"

The two women looked at each other. Then Jenny answered, "If you really want us to. We are planning on having Har-lo and Milwe" - she put an arm around the seated man and nodded her head in the direction of the waiting room - "for dinner." Then she licked her lips and her eyes gave an entirely different meaning to the description of their evening meal.

"Don't change your plans," Nate said. "Alex will be here for quite a while, so you'll get a chance to know him better soon."

We talked for a few more minutes and then Nate and Joan took me back outside and over to one of the workshops. We went inside and along with workbenches and tools I saw two Western men working on some mechanical device at one of the benches. They looked up and, when they saw Nate, put down their tools and greeted him. Nate introduced me to George and Bob. Both were about my own age and both looked very capable. Each was dressed in cutoff denim pants, the American Levis. This garment, which had originally been invented for the rough work in the California gold fields of the mid nineteenth century, was rapidly spreading around the globe. They are usually called Levis, after their inventor, even though the pants with the riveted seams are called "waist overalls" by their manufacturer. I had also heard another term - jeans - from some Americans during the war. When I asked why pants made from denim and not from jean material, were called jeans, they only shrugged. I don't think they even knew jean was a kind of material. But I digress. George was tall, about six foot, with dark brown hair and a wide smile. He greeted me with a slow drawl, definitely pinning him down as being from the states, and the southern states in particular. We shook hands and then I turned to Bob. Like George he had a wide smile and possessed a similar dark tan. Although several inches shorter, also like George, Bob had muscular arms and broad shoulders, the result, no doubt, of heavy work. His smile was just as sincere and his accent just as American. I couldn't place it at first, but he told me he was from Colorado.




Spice Plantation Ch. 02



The plantation had a refrigeration system and the two of them were busy trying to repair some part of it, so we soon left them to their task. Nate and Joan showed me around the other buildings in the group and suggested that we grab a quick bite to eat for lunch. Instead of going back to the dining room I had seen, we stopped back into the kitchen and picked up some sandwiches and fruits and carried them to a table outside.

Joan and Nate sat opposite me so I had a clear view of Joan's rather magnificent chest. I tried hard not to stare, but with limited success. However, even though both Joan and Nate must have been aware of the direction of my gaze, neither seemed to mind. I asked about my luggage - small though this collection was - and Nate informed me that it would be delivered to my hut - I was finding that "hut" was the general term used for any building here - and that one of the "hut girls" would unpack things for me. I understood that the "hut girls" were somewhat like maids and my general cleaning, laundry, and such would all be taken care of.

At some point our conversation turned to the other staff. The two mechanics each lived in a separate hut, but not alone. Each had a native girl who shared his abode. From some of the comments Nate and Joan made I gathered that they also shared the two girls and often others as well. I was beginning to wonder just how "free" this entire enterprise was. I asked about Jenny and Deborah and Joan smiled at me as she replied, "They aren't tied down to any one man - or woman."

My eyebrows must have shot upwards because she laughed and went on, "That's right. They share a hut and while both like men - to say the least - they also enjoy each other and occasionally other women. Look, Alex, here we really don't have much in the way of sexual taboos. Pretty much anything is acceptable."

"Sure," Nate added, "there's only one really rigid rule. No one is ever forced into anything. Any native who was forcing himself on another would be gone before the day was over. And any staff member who tried to use his position to intimidate someone would meet the same fate - if he was lucky. Fortunately, that isn't a problem. The people here grow up with almost no inhibitions and most of them have learned the delights of the flesh by the time they are fourteen or so. We are careful who we select and besides, there's no real reason to try and use force to get what is being given away almost everywhere anyway."

This island is going to take some getting used to, but I'll admit I like the concept. Perhaps if the two nurses like men as well as each other, I may even persuade them to join me for a repeat of my French encounter. (Better keep such thoughts to yourself, Alex. Uninhibited or not, don't get your hopes up too far.)

Nate explained that they had adopted the custom of some of the warmer Western countries and generally everyone rested for a couple of hours after lunch each day. Work started early with the early light of the tropics, so taking a long break during the warmest part of the day seemed reasonable, even though, cooled by the ocean as it is, the temperature never climbs too exceedingly high here, although the humidity is usually pretty elevated.

Nate said, "This afternoon, Alex, we'll show you around some of the processing facility and the various groves. We can all get better acquainted at dinner. And don't worry about getting up early tomorrow. We'll let you recover from the trip for a day or so. Then I'll be introducing you to your job over the next few days. Gives you a chance to get acclimated."

Later.

We ate dinner in the dining room I had visited earlier. At the long table were Nate, Joan, George, Bob, myself, and the two native girls who were evidently living with the two mechanics, Chau-lei and Mei-ho. The men were all wearing only sarongs as was Joan. I still had on my kilt and white shirt, although now I had rolled the sleeves up somewhat. Chau-lei and Mei-ho were pretty island women with dark, straight hair and dark eyes. They were about nineteen or twenty, both were slim and stood about five foot two and both were completely naked. So were the two other girls who served us dinner. And, except for that tiny apron, so was Ly-mei who stopped in to make sure everything was satisfactory.

I can't fault the view, however this wonderful display of feminine beauty combined with the often suggestive conversation at the table to cause me certain other problems. I will just say that I am very happy that I could remain seated, the table above my lap, throughout the meal. Matters weren't helped any by the three women. Joan was seated across from me and the island girls were on either side. All three managed to contrive to have their feet and calves slide against my own bare legs a number of times throughout the meal. I am sure they were all very aware of what they were doing and I suspect from some of his smiles, that Nate was also. I'm just glad they seemed to stop a few minutes before we finished so that I could stand up without embarrassment.

After dinner the group of us moved outside to a group of chairs, covered by a roof, where we could look out over the sea. Joan sat next to Nate and their hands frequently wandered to touch each other - not in any really erotic manner, but still displaying an intimate closeness. This didn't really surprise me now that I had found that these two had a close relationship and, of course, Nate had been absent for some time. However, I was still a little surprised by Bob and George who each had a girl sitting on their lap, their hands casually stroking bare legs, breasts, and buttocks. The girls didn't seem to mind and, in fact, often encouraged and reciprocated such actions. I spent a lot of the time with my legs crossed.

A couple of times the two girls who had served at dinner brought us some cool fruit drinks. One of these was Che, whom I had met earlier, and Nate introduced the other as Mai-quan. I noticed that the other men - even George and Bob who had their hands full, so to speak - had no hesitation in closely watching these two as they approached and even more so as they left, bare buttocks swaying in an incredible fashion. I have decided that if that is acceptable behavior here, I'll take full advantage of it and joined them in observing these lovely women.

I think it was about nine when Nate suggested we should perhaps turn in a little early. I suspect weariness from our journey was not the major reason for this, but rather a desire to become reacquainted with Joan in a less public setting; however, I was feeling a certain languor myself, likely derived from the level of uncertainness resulting from not being used to the attitudes and expectations of this new environment. In short, I was worn out from trying not to stare and at the same time trying not to look like I was trying not to stare, all the while staring whenever possible. There was also the strain of trying to keep my kilt from sticking straight out in a certain place.

We broke up and Nate said that he would have Che and Mai-quan show me where the bathhouse was and make sure I had everything I needed. "Don't worry about getting up in the morning. Just come over to the kitchen and grab something to eat when you do get up."

I said my good nights and then was led to the bathhouse entrance by two lovely, naked girls. Actually there were two entrances, one they explained was for the shower and the other contained the sanitary facilities. They waited outside this one while I went in and made use of them. When I emerged, each took an arm and led me to the hut Nate had designated as my own.

I expected them to leave me at the door, but both accompanied me inside. The hut had two rooms: a larger one with table, desk, and several chairs. The smaller room was the bedroom which contained a double sized, Western style bed with mosquito netting surrounding it, along with a chest of drawers and a small closet with shelves and a hanging area for clothes. There was also a small bedside table and a large mirror over the chest.

The two girls moved past me and proceeded me into the bedroom. They moved to either side of the bed and folded back the light cover and sheet, and tucked the netting up at the sides. I assumed the netting could be easily lowered if necessary. Now I thought they were finished and I thanked both of them and said good night. Che turned to me and lowered her eyes slightly. "You want Che to warm bed tonight?"

I froze. Did she mean sleep with me or was she only referring to some mundane thing. It wasn't cold enough to even consider any kind of bed warming pan, but I didn't want to make a fool of myself. For that matter, even if she did mean the more pleasurable alternative, I wasn't sure if I was ready for this yet. I said, "Thank you, Che, but I am all right tonight."

Then Mai-quan removed any confusion as to interpretation by saying, "Rather Mai-quan stay with you tonight instead?"

I looked from one to the other. How could I get out of this without insulting one or the other of them, something I certainly had no intension of doing. Slowly I said, "Thank you, Mai-quan, too, but I'm really all right."

Che and Mai-quan both looked hurt. "You not like us?" Che asked, her lower lip starting to quiver.

Now I had done it. I thought quickly and replied, "I like you very much, Che. And I also like you very much, Mai-quan. But if Che stays, Mai-quan would feel bad. And if Mai-quan stays, then Che would be hurt. I do not want to hurt either of you."

I was just congratulating myself on having escaped from a situation I wasn't sure I was ready for yet - with either of them - when I saw the two girls turn and look at each other. I couldn't see directly, but their eyes seemed to be communicating and then Che said, "We understand. We will both stay. Then no one be hurt." Before I could do more than let my mouth drop open, both girls advanced on me, reaching for my shirt and kilt. I was too startled and confused to think clearly and in only a few seconds, the two women had released both my shirt and kilt, leaving me stark naked myself, my tool now positioning itself at the horizontal.

Suddenly I had two bare female bodies pressing against me, four hands caressing me in intimate places. It had been more than five months since I had been with a woman. Now, as two pairs of lips kissed my face, and four hands squeezed by private parts, and four firm, pointed breasts slid across my bare skin, hard nipples seeming to burn trails on my flesh, I could not have stopped what was happening no matter how much I might have wanted. And I don't think I really wanted to stop at all.

Mai-quan continued to kiss and stroke me and I began to return her caresses when suddenly I noticed Che drop to her knees. I had found that in Europe - even France - most women were at best hesitant to engage in oral sex. The few times I had found willing companions had, indeed, been wonderful, and on a few occasions the woman in question had been as interested in these activities as I was. But it was still a somewhat rare thing. Now Che did not hesitate at all and immediately applied her warm and soft mouth to my rigid tool while Mai-quan continued to stroke and tease and otherwise stimulate my body with her own. After five months it was not surprising that I lasted only a minute before I cried out and could feel myself beginning to convulse. On one of the few occasions when I had found a very willing lady I had been pleasurably surprised when she continued to suck and swallow as I reached a climax. All the rest, few though they were, had avoided any taste of my fluids. Che had no such hesitation and greedily gulped down each drop.

I groaned and collapsed onto the bed, pulling Mai-quan down with me. Che slithered her way up my body and snuggled closely against me, her tongue finding my mouth, surprising me with a taste of my own juices mingled with hers. While she was doing this, Mai-quan slithered in the other direction and suddenly I felt a second darting tongue beginning to tease my sensitive organ. Soon she had me inside her mouth and I could feel myself begin to harden almost immediately. As I became rigid once again, Mai-quan, kneeling between my open legs, slowed her actions and began to slowly traverse the length of my shaft. Che changed her position and suddenly I had a smooth leg on either side of me and the aroma of an aroused female overwhelmed me as she lowered her sex to my mouth. I had found that the few women who could be persuaded to give this form of play a try usually enjoyed the experience, so I didn't hesitate to begin applying my tongue to the warm and wet treasure at my lips.

I was busily engaged in this activity when I felt Mai-quan's lips slide from my shaft, but a few seconds later I felt her other lips, wet and hot, engulf my shaft as she lowered herself, impaling her body on my rigid member. This time our action lasted several minutes until all three of us had climaxed, the women two or three times each.

With bare breasts and legs pressed against each side and two small, soft hands resting on my reduced and recovering member, I slipped into sleep. However, I did not sleep straight through the night. Far from it. Before morning I happily reached fulfilment repeatedly with both women. I did not keep an accurate count - I was otherwise engaged - however, I believe I climaxed at least seven or eight times that night. And both Mai-quan and Che far exceeded that.

Another thing I am fast discovering is that, unlike most Western women, the island girls - at least these two - have no exclusive fondness for the missionary position, but often prefer to be in the superior station, a state I, too, found exciting. However, I still managed to be on top - or at least between - several times. If I am forced to compare, I would have to say that these two could probably teach the mademoiselles of Paris a few things.

February 22

When I awoke the sun was well up, but, remembering Nate's invitation to take my time, it was nearly another hour - and two climaxes - later before I arose. I hesitated slightly too long and suddenly a girl seized each arm and began to drag me from the bedroom. I wasn't sure what they had in mind, but went with them, even though all of us were still stark naked. They didn't stop at the front room, but rather pulled me on out the door. I protested but they continued insistently, pulling me away from my hut. I quickly realized they were conducting me towards the bathhouse. This time they pulled me to the other door from the one I had used last night and, also different from the previous evening, they accompanied me inside. Inside I saw that there was a single large shower area, such as might be found in a gym or on an army base. However, there seemed to be no differentiation as to gender. There were three islanders - two men and one woman - just drying off from a shower; otherwise we had the room to ourselves.

I gave up being embarrassed and let the two playful girls wash me under a spray of salt water and then quickly under a fresh water rinse. There were towels on shelves and we dried off, but when I tried to wrap one around my waist, both girls strongly insisted that the towel was to be left in the bathhouse. I finally shrugged and, still naked, ventured back out, hoping no one else was about who would see me before I got back to my hut. I was in luck and made the short trip unnoticed.

The two girls came inside while I went to find something to wear. The clothing I had brought with me was neatly stacked on shelves or distributed in the chest of drawers, but there were also several sarongs of light weight material which had appeared on one of the shelves. The kilt and shirt had been really too hot and I decided to give one of the sarongs a try. I could see that dressing here would require only seconds and soon we left the hut again and made our way over to the kitchen.

As we entered the kitchen, Ly-mei turned and saw us. She spoke first to me. "Good morning, Mr. Alex. You want to eat?"

"Yes, thank you, Ly-mei," I said.

She indicated a table with plates of food, like a buffet, where I could select what I wanted. Then she turned to the two girls and said, "You two both late today."

Che answered, "We stay Mr. Alex last night. Warm his bed."

I turned bright red at this, but no one seemed to take any notice. Instead Ly-mei looked from one to the other of the girls. "You both stay with him? Both warm bed?"

Mai-quan nodded vigorously. "Yes. Both warm bed. Kawi-kawi."

Ly-mei again looked from one to the other and then around at me. She looked back at the girls and said, "Kawi-kawi?"

Both women nodded vigorously again. "Yes. Both kawi-kawi," Che replied.

Ly-mei raised her eyebrows in a very Western gesture and then turned and gave me an appraising look. I'm still not sure what this was all about, but at last she told the girls to eat and then get busy.

I ate and went to find Nate.

I found Nate in his office and he spent the next several hours going over the work I would be doing and showing me around the remainder of the plantation. It was nearly noon when Joan, along with the two nurses, found us and suggested lunch. We were just getting ready to accompany them when one of the men came up and told Nate that there was a problem over in a grove of clove trees at the far edge of the plantation. Nate spoke with him a minute and then said, "I'd better go get this straightened out. Alex, you might as well come along and see what you've gotten yourself into. You girls go ahead and we'll grab a sandwich to take with us."

There were vehicles on the plantation - mostly lorries or specialized contrivances. We took a small one with an open bed and quickly made our way to the grove in question. As it turned out there was no real problem. One of the workers had seen something he took to be a beetle which attacked clove trees, but Nate was certain it was a harmless variety. Just to be on the safe side, he put one in a glass bottle to send somewhere where it could be examined by an expert. As for myself, all I could say was it looked like a bug. I've got a lot to learn about this business.

The most noteworthy occurrence - from my own standpoint - happened on our way back. Nate was mostly still talking about the trees when he casually threw in, "Too bad we missed lunch. I'm sure you would have enjoyed seeing the girls without their sarongs."


My head snapped around and he laughed at the expression on my face. "I guess I didn't mention it, but even though we usually dress for dinner like last night" - (dress for dinner!?! in nothing more than sarongs!?! ) - "usually for lunch and our 'siesta' afterwards, the staff takes the chance to strip all the way down. If you've never tried it, you'll be surprised how free it feels."

Free, maybe, but I don't think I'm quite ready to show up naked for lunch. Although I'll admit I like the idea of seeing the three women that way. Now that I think about it, I'll admit that when they came by to get us for the meal earlier, I thought nothing of the fact that all were wearing sarongs and were bare from the waist up. I guess we really do adapt quickly.

When we got back Nate suggested I go over to the clinic. There was a dose of malaria medicine we were supposed to take each day and I had missed it since I wasn't at breakfast. I asked about the danger of the disease and Nate told me there was really little trouble: the quinine was just a precaution. As I entered the clinic Lhei greeted me and then looked me up and down in what I thought was a very appraising manner. I told her what I was there for and she took me back inside where Jenny and Deborah were sitting and talking. Lhei was of course completely nude and the two nurses were again dressed in their short white coats which were unbuttoned nearly to their waists. Jenny handed me the medicine and as I took it she and Deborah both looked me over in the same way their receptionist had. The two looked at each other and then Deborah said, "kawi-kawi, huh?" Then she and Jenny both burst into laughter. I have got to find out what that means.




Spice Plantation Ch. 02



The ship we had come on had loaded the cargo of processed spices and was scheduled to depart in another hour or so. As I left the clinic I met Nate heading down towards the dock to make sure everything was properly completed before its departure. I tagged along again to learn what I could. After he had talked with one of the native foremen and checked the paperwork we were just getting ready to start back to the main building again when I suddenly heard the sound of an engine getting louder. In a few seconds I realized it was an aircraft and I instinctively looked for somewhere to hide. Almost instantly I realized that this was not France and I didn't have to duck at the sound of aircraft. Instead I looked up and saw a small biplane passing by a little off shore.

"Looks like Dr. Hartley has returned," Nate remarked. The plane made a turn and began to line up with a cleared strip located on the beach above the high tide mark. "Come on and you can meet the good doctor.

We made our way about fifty yards to a tin roofed hanger near one end of the strip and waited while the plane floated to earth and taxied up to the hanger door. I could see the pilot was the only one aboard, but all I could see of him was a leather flying helmet and goggles. He shut down the engine and climbed out and I still couldn't see much beyond the leather flying jacket, boots and trousers. All I could tell was that he was slim and of medium to tall height, maybe five eight or so and he carried a doctor's black bag. Then as he approached us, he reached up and pulled off the helmet and goggles and I saw a long mane of shining auburn hair cascade down the jacket. The jacket quickly followed the helmet and there was no doubt that the pilot was a rather tall young woman instead of a medium height man. There was absolutely no doubt for she had on nothing under the jacket.

I stared as she walked up to us and said, "Nate! I see you're back. Have a good trip?" Then she gave him a kiss much as the other women had yesterday.

Then she looked at me and Nate said, "Susan, this is our new General Manager, Alex Robertson. Alex, Dr. Hartley."

"Susan," she said. "I'm only doctor when you're sick. I'm happy to meet you, Alex."

I was caught by two of the bluest eyes I have ever seen, set in an extraordinarily beautiful face. It must have been, because it drew my eyes upwards from two of the most perfect breasts I have ever seen - and in just the last day I've seen quite a few. I stared at a lovely smile, white, even teeth, lips red without the aid of any cosmetic. Finally I found my voice and said, "It's definitely a pleasure to meet you, Susan."

Two of the island men were pulling the plane around and back into the hanger and she suddenly said, "Just a second while I tell them a couple of things and get out of these flying clothes. I'll be right back."

I stared after her, watching the sway of taut buttocks inside the close fitting pants. I noticed that not only was she tall, but she had legs that even seemed long for her height. One of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. As she ducked into the hanger I turned to Nate and said, "You didn't mention that Dr. Hartley was a woman.

Nate half smiled and replied, "Oh, I didn't? Must have slipped my mind." Then he added a little more seriously, "She definitely is. She is also a really good doctor. She went through one of the medical schools in America - Harvard, I believe. However, I understand she has a rather wild streak and that combined with the prejudice against women in medicine made it fairly hard on her both in school and when she tried to find a position after she graduated. She's been here the last two years and, as I said, she's a wonderfully talented physician."

Susan reappeared carrying her black bag and wearing only a short sarong and I saw her legs were even better than I had imagined - and I had imagined them as quite good. She looked to be about twenty-five or six. This was later confirmed when she and Nate explained she had started college quite young and graduated from medical school four years ago at the age of twenty-two. She had spent two years working at hospitals and clinics in the Boston area before coming here. "Everyone told me I would love the challenge. I think a lot of people were just happy to see me go. I was kind of a troublemaker," she said. I can't imagine any one being happy to see her go - except that the view from behind is delightful.

The three of us walked back to the main building. Susan said she was going down to the processing sheds to check on some things and Nate had some accounting to finish. I was planning on going back to my office to begin reading over some of the materials there when Nate said, "Alex hasn't really seen the processing side of our enterprise yet. Why don't you take him with you, Susan."

"I'd love to," she replied. "Come along, Alex. I'm sure you'll love the sheds." Then a sly look came across her face and she added, "Almost all the workers are female." My face turned slightly red as I imagined sixty or seventy island women, all working stark naked. Susan must have read my mind as a lovely little laugh escaped her mouth.

Susan stepped into the clinic, telling me to meet her there in a quarter hour. When I came she was just emerging and we began to walk along a well worn path away from the main buildings. I tried not to stare, but my eyes kept coming back to this lovely woman. As I said she was tall with a slender build, but in no way does this make her appear mannish. She is definitely female! Her breasts are not as large as Joan's but are firm hemispheres topped with large nipples. I noticed these often appeared to be somewhat hard and erect and I wondered if the constant stimulation of the breeze caused this. (The last day I have seemed to frequently be semi erect myself, but that has nothing to do with the breeze!) She was all well toned muscle but this didn't hide her feminine curves.

After about a quarter mile or so we arrived at a series of open sided sheds. Inside were numerous arrangements of tables and benches where native women worked at esoteric tasks. The entire area was permeated with aroma of various spices. Besides the cloves, I recognized nutmeg and cinnamon, but there were several others I couldn't place. I followed Susan from one place to another while she asked some of the lead girls about dust and other conditions and if there were any problems. She pointed out areas where the clove flowers were drying and other spices were also lying open to the air. "The layout is actually pretty good," she said to me. "The sheds are designed so the breezes carry away most of the dust and pollen. Working conditions here are probably better than ninety-nine percent of the factories in Europe and America.

Once as she was talking with one of the women, I noticed a group of three other girls looking at me. I glanced around and they all looked quickly away but when I turned around again I heard one of them whisper, "kawi-kawi," and then all three of them were giggling.

On the way back to the clinic I decided I had to know the meaning of that word. Trying to sound casual I asked Susan, "By the way, do you know the meaning of 'kawi-kawi'? I keep hearing it."

It seemed Susan swallowed a laugh, but she replied, "It's sort of a number. Many of the islanders in this part of the world have never developed the need for counting beyond a few items. No real arithmetic. So they count 'one, two, three, many-many'. "Eeh, tec, waei, kawi-kawi."

I thought back to how Che and Mai-quan had used the term. It was something like "Both warm bed. Kawi-kawi." I saw then that "kawi-kawi" in this case must be a way of stating the score. I could feel red heat rapidly climbing to my face. I'm sure Susan suppressed a smile, but she didn't say anything.

We again had dinner in the main dining area and this time Susan as well as Jenny and Deborah joined all of us who were there last night. Che and a different girl whose name I didn't catch served us. Once more we talked for a while after dinner and then left for our own individual huts. I wasn't sure if Che and Mai-quan would be coming back with me again, but I'll admit I sort of hoped so.

A couple of minutes after I entered my place I heard Che call out from the door. "Che stay with you tonight? Mai-quan can not come tonight."

I won't say I was not a little disappointed, but Che was certainly a lively girl in her own right and at least, I thought, I might get a little more sleep. But when I called her in, Che stepped inside and said, "Mai-quan not come. I bring Ly-mei instead." Sure enough the lovely Ly-mei, now without her apron and dangling fountain pen, appeared beside Che. Suffice it to say that I did not get a lot of sleep after all but I also did not at all regret it.

February 23

I awoke much earlier this morning but the two women insisted on a slight delay before letting me get up. And once up they both again dragged be to the bath house completely naked. This time just as we had dried off and were leaving, the two nurses, Jenny and Deborah, entered (completely naked also) and headed towards the showers. I stood, completely engrossed, watching the view of them moving away from me for several seconds, completely forgetting my own nude condition, but when I saw them each wrap an arm around the other as they entered the spray, I quickly turned and accompanied my own two lovely girls back to my hut.

I arrived at breakfast with the last of the staff and joined everyone else at the table. The women were now all wearing sarongs, and I thought once again how much I'm coming to like the attire of this plantation. Susan passed out quinine and as she handed my dose to me she said, "Here's your medicine, Kawi-kawi." I seem to have picked up a nickname and I noticed smiles from all the other staff as she said it. The story must have spread widely. At least no one laughed at my bright red face.



Spice Plantation Ch. 03



I paused in my reading and laid the thick journal aside, leaving it open to my place. I turned my full attention to Judy - an easy task. I noticed her nipples were once again hard and she was squirming against her bonds. The story of my great uncle, as told in his journal, must have been really turning her on. Of course, my free hand stroking her bare breasts and pubes might also have had something to do with that. I'm sure both had contributed to the hard erection I now possessed.

"That's not all of it, is it?" she asked almost in desperation.

"Not at all," I laughed. "We haven't even gotten to the really hot parts yet."

A groan escaped her lips. "Paul, this is real, isn't it? You didn't make this up yourself?"

"No, I told you it really is my great uncle's journal, just as he wrote it."

"I almost can't believe it! Oh, I believe you, but it just seems like too much of a fantasy. Like something you'd find in a bondage story. And, damn, it's making me horny!"

"I'm sure I can find something to do about that," I said, as I slowly drew my finger in small circles around her hardened right nipple. I grasped the nub between my thumb and forefinger and began to squeeze and tug. Judy gasped again and tried to arch her breasts higher. I moved my other hand and began to repeat the performance with her left nipple, teasing and tormenting both of these beautiful objects.

A long moan escaped her lips. "We're just getting started," I added. "And I will say it gets even hotter as we go along. However, it's already after two and I want you to be wide awake while I'm reading it to you."

"You think I'm going to go to sleep while listening to that?" Judy asked incredulously.

I laughed. "Probably not, but we've got all weekend. I want to save some. Besides I still have a few other plans for you now." I turned off the reading light, leaving the darkness broken by the soft glow of the fire and the candles on the mantle.

Judy relaxed slightly, resigning herself to wait until tomorrow for more of the story. I leaned over her and kissed her lips, just letting mine slightly brush against hers. I followed this with a kiss to each eyelid, her nose, and another to her lips, pressing a little harder this time. Then I sat up for a few seconds as she strained to keep her lips against mine. When she slumped back onto the longue once more, I leaned over and barely brushed the hollow of her neck with my lips. Then I just let my tongue and lips make the slightest of brushing contact with her nipples.

Once again Judy strained to put these hard nubs more deeply into my mouth and once again I pulled back just out of reach. "I intend this to be long, slow torture," I said, smiling down at her.

She moaned and again fell back onto the leather. "In that case, I think you had better let me make a trip to the bathroom first," she answered.

"All right, but you can leave the cuffs on. And I think maybe we'll move over to the bed." I unfastened her wrists and ankles from the longue and watched as she flexed sore muscles. I pulled her into my arms and gave her a hard, deep kiss this time which left us both breathing a little fast. Reluctantly she pulled away and I watched her tight and naked ass as she moved into the bathroom.

I added logs to the fire, checked out the window (It was still snowing hard.), and then made my own trip into the bathroom just as Judy was emerging. "I had to take the plug out, Paul," she said as she passed. "You don't want me stretched too much for tomorrow, now do you?"

"By all means, give your nice little bottom a rest," I tossed back. "I definitely plan to make it a lot more uncomfortable tomorrow."

Judy stopped and looked over her shoulder at me. I saw her give a slight shiver and then she said, "Oh, I hope so." Then she turned and went on back towards the bed.

When I came back Judy had turned down the bed and was lying on the smooth sheets on her back. I spread her arms and legs and attached her cuffs to the head and foot boards. She wasn't tight enough to cause a strain on her muscles, but enough so she could barely move. I put out the candles so the room was lit only by the flickering fire and then I moved beside her and began a slow, slow teasing of her sensitive skin.

For more than forty five minutes I licked, nibbled, and lightly brushed against her most sensitive places. Several times when her nipples were rock hard and she was straining against her bonds, I used a small camel hair brush to lightly touch them, sometimes only with a single strand. Or I would move between her spread legs and let my breath caress her open slit and protruding clit. Again the brush would be employed. My fingers danced over her thighs and belly, lightly, ever so lightly. But I always stopped short of allowing her to come.

My tongue would lath her slit and penetrate inwards as far as possible. I used my straining erection to brush against her nipples and lightly over her lips. My tongue explored the inside channel of her ears.

Judy was moaning and straining and was constantly excited to an almost impossible level. Finally I moved into a sixty nine position and lowered myself. Even as my tongue began to press hard against her open sex, I felt her hot and wet mouth engulf the head of my own straining member. Both of us were incredibly aroused and, not surprisingly, lasted only about a minute before I began pumping spurt after spurt down her throat as she pushed her mound hard against my mouth and nose.

But we didn't stop. Did I mention that Judy is multi-orgasmic? Well, she certainly is and can keep coming and coming. Not only that but she continued using her talented tongue and mouth and soon I surprised even myself by becoming hard again. We continued to play orally for a long time - probably another thirty minutes or so until at last I pulled away long enough to turn around and mount her, plunging my stiff rod deeply into her welcoming hot and wet slit.

This time when we came I rolled off and lay beside her as our breathing returned to normal. I freed her from her bonds and removed the cuffs and we pulled up a light cover and snuggled against one another. Even though the wind was loudly driving snow against the windows, we were comfortable with only this thin covering. I had decided long ago that I would rather spend a little more on heating fuel as a more than adequate exchange for the pleasure of playing and sleeping together naked.

As we settled down at last Judy remarked, "You know, last week I overheard three of the girls in one of my classes talking together when one of them remarked that oral sex wasn't really sex. And the other two agreed. I was walking by them when they said this and I couldn't help but stop and say, 'If you don't think oral sex is real sex, you must be doing it all wrong.'"

We both laughed and I agreed with her. Then the next thing I remember there was frosted light leaking around the window curtains and the wind was still singing it's shivering song. Judy must have awoken about the same time because she began to snuggle against me, rubbing a bare breast along my side. I began to return her strokes and soon we were once more sweating together in hard, loving exercise. I think it was probably an hour before we got out of bed and headed for the shower.

After we dried, we went back to the bedroom and I pulled aside the curtain. It was still overcast and either snowing slightly or maybe just blowing around. Either way there was at least fifteen inches of snow, choking the road, drifting around the house and trees. And the wind was still blowing at least fifteen knots. I looked at the clock and saw, to my surprise, it was already past eleven.

I let the curtain drop and said, "They won't be getting around to plowing dead end roads like this until late today or maybe even tomorrow, but we don't need to go anywhere, do we?"

"Just what did you have in mind for today then, Lover?" Judy asked.

"You still need to ask?" I responded.

"I meant the particulars," Judy said. "I, for one, want to hear some more of that journal later. Right now, I'm pretty hungry. Why don't you build up the fire again and we can eat in here?"

"I'll second that," I said. Judy started towards the closet where I knew she had a robe hung. "Hold it a second," I said, and she stopped and turned back towards me. "Let's do like I said yesterday and stay naked all day. Maybe all weekend."

Her face lit up like a bulb. "I'd like that, I think. Leering at your body is always fun. Let's see how we like cooking and eating in the nude. Or have you tried this before?"

"Nope, but it does sound like fun. Also gives me easier access." I leered back at her.

"If that means you are planning on ravishing me, I'm all for it," she answered.

With our arms around each other we headed to the kitchen where I made omelets while Judy heated us some hot tea and made toast. We carried the plates and mugs back to the bedroom where this time we sat at a small table near the fireplace and we found we did like doing these things nude also. (Besides looking, I also liked being able to run my hand up and down her bare thighs while we ate.)

When we had finished eating we moved the table back out of the way and I added wood to the fire. Since I use the fireplace quite a bit, I built a large woodbox and keep it filled. There was easily enough so we could have a fire all day and night without having to go into the garage for more wood. When I had the fire ready again, I turned to Judy and asked, "Ready to go back to the sun and sand of the South Pacific?"

"That would be nice," she mused. "But for now I guess I'll have to settle for you reading about it to me. So tie me down and read me some more about the sun and sand - and the sex - of the South Pacific."

I hadn't expected her to ask to be tied down, but I certainly wasn't going to object. I arranged Judy on the leather longue again, put on her cuffs, and attached them to the longue frame. I teased her for a little while, getting her hot and bothered again, and then once more picked up my uncle's journal and began to read where we had left off the night before.

February 23 - Later

I spent the morning going over the books and other paperwork in my office, learning as much about the spice business as I could. In addition to dry information such as the plantation production numbers and costs, there were a number of articles and monographs on methods and details of production of the different kinds of spices. I realized I had quite a bit to learn, but none of it looked impossible. It would just take a little time.

About noon, Susan stuck her head into my door and asked, "Ready for some lunch?"

I looked up from the paper I was reading and saw she was still wearing her white lab coat, but now the buttons were undone down to her waist giving a nice view of her firm breasts. I suddenly felt my member harden and press against my sarong and was instantly thankful the desk was hiding this event. Susan continued, "We usually go down by the beach for a swim and make a picnic of it. Come on along."

I remembered what Nate had said about the staff usually stripping all the way down to relax for lunch and the siesta afterwards. While the idea of seeing Susan - and the other women - nude was certainly enticing, the idea of baring myself and - unless I was completely wrong - spending lunch with a raging hard on, was more than my mind could handle. I started to reply, had to stop and clear my throat, and finally managed to get out, "I really need to learn a lot more about the job I'm supposed to be doing. I think I'll just skip it today. Maybe I can have Ly-mei send over a sandwich or something."

It sounded like a feeble excuse even to my ears and Susan raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "OK, if you're sure. But remember, it doesn't hurt to take a break now and then."

I smiled weakly at her and after a second she shrugged and said, "See you at dinner, then." She turned to leave and as she started into the hallway I saw her slip the lab coat off her shoulders and caught just the slightest glimpse of bare back and buttock as she disappeared from sight.

I sat there frozen for several minutes thinking what a fool I had been to turn down a chance for lunch with a view like that. My imagination was still running wild and my rigid member was well aware of what I was thinking. Suddenly Ly-mei scratched at the doorway and entered with a tray of food. "Miss Susan say you eat here, so Ly-mei bring you food."

I had turned slightly in my chair to watch Susan depart and as Ly-mei entered she had a clear view of my raging erection pressing against the thin material of the sarong. Her eyes opened wide and she sat the tray on the side of my desk. I suddenly realized she had seen my arousal and before I could turn to hide my condition she quickly moved directly in front of me. She reached down and grasped me through the thin material and quietly said, "Ly-mei also help with this."

I'll admit I was paralyzed and before I could regain control of my muscles, the lovely girl had dropped to her knees, lifted the sarong to free my member, and let her warm, wet mouth encircle the head. I let out a groan as she began to slide her wet mouth up and down the rigid shaft, whipping her tongue around the sensitive underside of the head. Her hands began to play with my balls and even though it had only been a few hours since she and Che and I had been playing, I lasted only a half a minute before I felt my hot fluids rush along their passage and explode into Ly-mei's demanding mouth. She continued to hold me in her hand and lick me clean. Finally she smiled at me and stood and said, "Ly-mei always happy to help Mr. Alex." She smiled again and with no other comment turned and left the room. Somehow I was able to actually eat the food she had brought.

This afternoon I spent a couple of hours with Nate going over the various aspects of my new job. He seemed pleased with the rate at which I seem to be picking things up, so there is no problem there. At some point I finally steered the conversation around to the nocturnal activities of Che and the other girls. Smiling, Nate asked, "Are you complaining?"

I shook my head. "No, not at all. I just want to make sure I'm not doing anything to offend anyone. I like it here. I like the job and the people - both staff and the native workers I've met so far. I don't want to do anything to mess it up."

Nate again smiled at this admission. "Don't worry about it. I told you we are rather relaxed here. No restrictions except that everyone must agree to any activity. No one is forced or intimidated. Never. But otherwise as long as the work gets done, no one is going to complain or even be bothered in the slightest by your 'spare time activities.' You could ravish a girl on the table out there and no one would care - unless they were trying to eat lunch there at the time."

I think he was serious.

Nate continued, "Look, Alex, the natives here love life and to them it is obvious that life includes sex. We Westerners have pretty well adopted that attitude also. Jenny and Deborah, for example, enjoy sex with each other but they also really enjoy it with men - both natives and other Western staff. No one thinks any less of them when they spend an evening alone with each other or when they bring in one or two - sometimes even more than two - of the native workers. Imagine the attitude in Britain if they tried to do the same thing there. Joan and I, as you know, live together. But that doesn't stop either of us from enjoying other partners. In fact, it's not at all uncommon for a dinner invitation to include bedtime fun and games afterwards. Right now everyone is giving you a chance to acclimate. We know it's quite different at first. But don't be surprised if pretty soon you start getting invited over for dinner - and dessert - by the women. In the mean time - and of course, afterwards, too - if you see a girl you like, don't be afraid to ask her to spend the night. Just don't get upset if she says she's busy. And if she does, don't get all disappointed. Most likely she really is busy and she'll be interested another time. I'll bet that before the year is out, you will have slept with at least half of the girls here." Then he added, "The rest of us have."

I must have been staring at him with my mouth open because suddenly he laughed and said, "It does take some getting used to, doesn't it, Alex? Don't worry. In another couple of weeks it will seem the most natural thing in the world. And by the way, the same rules apply for asking the Western girls, too."

I remembered the way Jenny and Deborah had entered the shower together this morning, as though no one would care. And, if fact, it seemed that no one did care. I had looked away embarrassed then but when I thought about it I found that it didn't bother me at all. I even began to wonder what it would be like with the three of us in bed together.

Dinner was like last night - the staff were all present and all wore only sarongs. I should also add something about the sarongs. You have probably seen some in pictures and sometimes the ones women wear are longer and cover them from above their breasts to mid thigh. But the only ones I have seen anyone wear here - men or women - are short and cover only between the waist and mid thigh or even higher. This attire helped make the women even more attractive at meals. I sat between Susan and Joan and both of them managed to "accidently" rub their legs against mine as well as several times letting a bare breast brush my arm as they turned or reached for something. When dinner was over Susan and the two nurses said they had a couple of things to do in the clinic and Bob and George both wanted to get back to work on some project, so Nate, Joan and I moved outside to talk and have another drink. Before too long Joan and Nate were showing interest in each other so I excused myself and headed back to my hut. On the way I happened to pass Che and, taking Nate's advice, I asked, "Che, would you like to come back to my hut again tonight?"

Che broke into a smile that almost eclipsed the setting sun. She put her arms around my neck and gave me a hot kiss, pressing her bare body against me. "Che would like that, but I already promised Mr. Bob and Mr. George."

I started to say that that was all right when she said, "I find you another girl," and turned, walking quickly away.

I went on to my hut and pulled out a book I had found in what Nate had called the "library." This is a room in the main building with shelves along the walls containing a wide assortment of books. They are available for anyone to read, but in practice most were a little complicated for any but the western staff. I was coming to appreciate the informality of this place and unwrapped my sarong to lie back and read, comfortably undressed.

I had been reading for about an hour and was just thinking about going to sleep when I heard a scratching at the door. As I called out, but before I could cover myself, a lovely young woman stepped inside. Like all the rest she was completely naked and like many her pubic hair was also missing. "I am Tami," she said. "Che said you might like to love me."

The simple English structure of her words might have left the impression of a shy and hesitant young girl. However, her eyes and stance said otherwise. She was on the shorter side, like most of the native girls, probably about five two. Her dark hair hung down to the middle of her back and looked silky smooth and shiny. Her dark eyes flashed with not only confidence but also invitation and knowledge. This was no shrinking violet, but a fiery blossom. Her face showed experience and eagerness and I suspected she would never be afraid to go after what she wanted, something I later learned was right.




Spice Plantation Ch. 03



I smiled at her and said, "Che was right. I think I love you already." Her eyes said she even caught the subtleties of my answer and she advanced to me as I stood. Her nipples were already hard and erect and fairly burned against my chest as she pressed herself against me, encircling my neck with her arms and pulling me down into a very demanding kiss.

This was the first night I have spent with only one girl in my bed, but I think I got even less sleep that the other times.

February 24

As Tami kissed me before she left, she ran her tongue from my mouth, down and under my chin and around below my jaw up to my ear. She teasingly traced the inside of my ear with her hot, pointed tongue and then, just before breaking the embrace, she whispered "Kawi-Kawi."

Again this morning I spent several hours in my office reading about the new work I have chosen. And, like yesterday, just before noon Susan leaned in the door and asked about lunch. My immediate reaction was the same as yesterday, perhaps even more so because this time she had removed her lab coat and had on only a short sarong. Once again my tool instantly hardened and began to poke against my own sarong. I was about to beg off again, for the same reasons - both stated and real - as yesterday, when Jenny and Deborah both appeared beside Susan and urged me to join them for a swim and lunch. They were both already completely nude.

While I was still trying to find my voice Susan said, "Come on, Alex. As your doctor I prescribe some play - we wouldn't want Alex to become a dull boy." Then her face assumed a slightly more serious look. "Seriously, Alex, don't worry about being embarrassed. We all went through that period when we first arrived and we promise not to tease you - at least not very much. Just think of it as a swim and a picnic with interesting scenery." Then she reached down and began to unwrap her own sarong.

To say I wanted to agree and go with them would have been the greatest understatement of the century. But I couldn't even imagine myself standing up, much less removing my already minimal clothing. Either way my eight inch rod would be more than obvious. I was trying to summon the words to put them off once more when Deborah and Jenny suddenly moved to either side of me and grabbed my arms. Before I was really aware of what was happening they pulled me away from my desk and out of my chair. Susan moved forward and deftly pulled free the end of my sarong, unwrapping it and letting my manhood protrude in all its rigid glory.

Even in my incredibly embarrassed condition I noticed that all three pairs of female eyes fixed hungrily on my ready equipment. For several seconds we all froze. Then Susan broke the spell by reaching for my hand. She gave it a tug and said, "Come on, Alex. Just a swim and a picnic." Then she looked pointedly back at my, now, not so private parts. "And we can all enjoy the scenery."

At this point I ceased resisting and let the women pull me out of the office and the building. They led me along a path to a part of the beach secluded from the dock by vegetation where a small cove of incredibly blue water and a narrow strip of sugar white sand invited. Joan, Nate, Bob and George were already there and all as naked as I. This, and the fact that my erection had now subsided somewhat, served to reduce my embarrassment a little and soon we were all splashing around in the clear water as gentle waves rolled in to the shore of the cove.

As I think back on it, the most surprising thing about our activities is that they were actually not really sexual. Sure there was a little feeling, even some goosing and rather intimate caressing, but overall it was just good fun. The other surprising thing was that I quickly lost my overwhelming embarrassment. I did turn red a few times. For example, we were all standing in water a little over waist deep when Jenny and Deborah came up on either side of me. They must have planned it, because at the same instant both reached and cupped my balls. Then they each looked at me and together said, "Kawi-Kawi."

There was a selection of cold food and fruit drinks and we lay on blankets and ate, but, as the Chinese say, the nudity "was seen but not noticed." Afterwards we lay side by side for a short nap in the sun. Then, after a little more splashing, we headed back to work for the afternoon. Overall as I think back on it, it really was just a swim and a picnic.

By now I have become used to eating dinner with a table full of bare breasted women. It is surprising how quickly we can adapt to a new situation. I even began to return the teasing a little, now and then brushing my arm across the breast of the woman beside me or letting my foot slide along a bare calf under the table.

When dinner was over everyone started to head out to sit at the usual table and watch the sea and sky with an after dinner drink. But as we started out of the building, Susan came up beside me and said, "Alex, would you like to take a walk? I know a nice place to watch the sunset. That is, if you are up to a little climbing."

This last was said almost as a challenge, but that wasn't needed. I certainly was interested in taking a walk with Susan in any case. She warned that there were some sharp rock areas on the way so we slipped on some shoes but otherwise wore only the sarongs.

Susan took my hand and headed along a path in a direction away from the shore towards the center of the island. The path soon narrowed and began to slope steeply upwards. In a number of places we had to walk single file. Susan led and I had no problem with that because it placed me in an excellent position behind her to observe the enticing curves of her tight buttocks and well muscled legs - especially since the sarong hid almost nothing from that viewpoint.

After about a half hour we emerged from the jungle like growth to an open area at the top of a cliff. Here we were about two hundred fifty or three hundred feet above the sea and had a clear view almost directly to the west where the sun was only a few degrees above the horizon. The area was grass covered and soft underfoot so we kicked off our shoes. Someone had made a bench between two trees and we headed over to sit and look out at the sea.

We sat side by side for several minutes as we got our breath back from the hard climb. Susan reached over and took my hand in hers and gave it a squeeze. "This is about the most lovely sight I have ever seen," she said.

I gave her hand a quick squeeze in return. "It certainly is beautiful. Tell me, Dr. Hartley, how did you end up here?"

"Just lucky, I guess," she answered. Then she said, "Do you really want to hear?"

"Yes, I really do. Tell me about yourself."

"You mean 'How did a nice girl like me end up walking around half naked?'"

I started to stammer out some disclaimer until the laughter in her eyes revealed she was teasing me. She finally took pity on me and continued.

"OK. I grew up in New Hampshire. Or, I guess, a lot of people would say I never grew up at all. I was always a tomboy. I loved the out of doors but I also loved school and science and learning. I remember when I was in grade school people used to say I should become a nurse because I did well at science. And I would say I wanted to be a doctor like my father."

"My father had a good practice in the small town where we lived and also had built up enough of a reputation that he made frequent trips to Boston at the request of other doctors for consultation. I probably should mention that even though we weren't really rich, we were fairly well off."

"By the time I was in high school I had already developed the reputation for being different. I was less interested in the typical girl things and more interested in a lot of unusual areas. I had my own microscope and loved examining everything from pond life to feather tips. I loved target shooting and was pretty good with both a rifle and a bow and arrow. And I had become pretty handy with tools and liked woodworking. Fortunately my family supported me. My mother had been rather spirited herself, but not to the extent I was. Or maybe it was just the times she lived in. Anyway, she and my father encouraged me to find my own way and helped me get what I wanted. I learned to drive my father's automobile when I was fourteen and when I turned fifteen he helped me get my own runabout. This alone was unheard of, but I also had to learn how it worked and soon could overhaul the engine by myself."

"About this time I also discovered boys. My public behavior was beyond reproach, so no one thought anything wrong when I would go on picnics or such with the boys around town, even though I usually went with ones several years older than myself. And while my public behavior was completely proper at all times, I soon learned the pleasures of other behavior in private. I was careful who I selected to try some of these new experiences with, so I never got a reputation as 'fast,' but I did learn an awful lot that summer."

"And, because I know you're wondering, I did lose my virginity that year. It was with a nineteen year old home from college. He had some experience and I found the whole episode wonderful. I was also very fortunate that my father and I were very close and I could talk to him about it. He and my mother had told me the facts of life four years earlier and while I had never done it before myself, I was aware that they would often disappear upstairs to their bedroom for a couple of hours. So when it finally happened to me, I told Dad without really worrying about his reaction. What he did was to take me to his office and give me a good exam just to make sure I hadn't been damaged in any way and then gave me a supply of French letters and a short talk about being careful, both of whom I went with and of who might be noticing."

"The next school year I managed to sample the experience - or lack of it - of three different boys from school. Despite several tries, none of them came up to that first time. But when school was out that year - I was seventeen then and had just graduated - I went to my uncle's farm for the summer. My uncle lived out in the country about forty miles from my town and owned a farm. Really it was mostly an orchard, but it was fairly large and he hired college men to help out during the summer. That summer he had three men from Dartmouth who lived in rooms in the barn and ate with the family. I also helped around the farm and when we had time off the four of us usually headed out to the woods. Sometime about the second week I was there we found a nice swimming hole out in the woods and after that we went back at least a couple of times a week. Of course, we always went skinny dipping. My aunt and uncle might have suspected what we were doing, but they never asked or objected. Well, one thing led to another, and before the end of July I had had sex with each of the three. All three were more experienced that the boys in my high school had been and I found that it could be a whole lot of fun. I was even a little afraid for a while that there might be something wrong with me because I liked it so much, but after I discussed it with my father I decided there was nothing wrong - I was just very lucky."

"Anyway, that fall I went away to college where I learned quite a lot - both academically and otherwise. I learned that not all college men are as knowledgeable as the four I had experienced, but I also learned that most of them could be taught."

"When I graduated - a little early - I was more determined than ever to become a doctor. I mean, I was doing every thing else in an unconventional fashion, so why not? Did I mention that I learned to fly a plane while I was in college? Well, I did. Didn't even have to pay for the lessons. Seems there was this pilot who was happy to do almost anything to keep me around. Anyway, I was determined to become a doctor. I had a long talk with my father and he pulled some strings and I found myself in the new class at Harvard."

"Those years were the first time in my life I really had to work at school. But I did well at it. I had to put up with a lot of snide comments and a number of pranks from men who couldn't stand the idea that a girl could do well in medical school, but there were a few others with whom I became good friends. They supported me and kept me from giving up when the taunting became nearly too much. But I finally made it through and even most of my professors had come to grudging acceptance and I actually graduated near the top of my class."

"Over the next couple of years I found that the resentment didn't end with medical school and as I worked in the Boston hospital it seemed there were even more men there who thought I had no business being a doctor than there were in medical school. Even a lot of the women. They seemed to think that I should be a nurse like them and often treated me like one. Of course I continued to do a lot of other wild things, like the flying and so on, but I think it was mainly the MD degree that put off most of them. Then, through a chain of happen stances I talked to someone from the plantation and for the last two years I've been here and I couldn't be happier."

"I didn't mean to give you the impression that I'm truly a loose woman. I'll admit I'm not a conformist and I do love sex, but I am careful about whom I choose. And anywhere but this magic isle I am a perfectly proper woman in public." She stopped and ran her hand up my bare leg. "In private is another matter."

As I caught my breath Susan pulled her hand away and said, "OK, Alex, I've been chattering. Now you tell me about yourself."

I agreed and spent a few minutes giving her my background. I told her about growing up in the Highlands and about the army, even if not all the details of the war. I don't even like to think about those myself. When I had finished we kept on talking about a variety of topics. I have come to realize - and our conversation confirmed - that all of the Western staff here would be somewhat misfits back in Britain or even America. It's not that we're bad, or have no moral compass, but rather we have our own compass which does not always point in the same direction as most of society.

Once I asked, "Susan, I want to know something. From what I've seen there is probably more lovemaking going on on this island than in a typical city a hundred times this size. But I haven't seen any women who aren't rather slim. And they can't really hide anything here. Tell me," I finally blurted out, "don't any of them ever get knocked up?"

Susan tried to suppress a giggle and then let loose with a real laugh. "You are very observant, Alex. Of course I can understand you looking at them so closely." I felt myself turning red, but Susan went on. "Actually, I don't believe any of them ever have since I've been here. When I first noticed this I began to wonder if something had caused the entire native population to become sterile. But the first time I went over to their home island, I soon found that when the women returned there, almost all of them became pregnant right away. I began to ask questions and what I found is rather incredible. The natives have learned to brew a tea from some of the local plants. When the women drink this they can't conceive, but when they stop they have no problem producing children. If I knew what was in this, I could revolutionize Western society, but even though the natives readily accept me, no one will tell me this. It seems to be something almost religious. Anyway they bring a supply of the mixture here to brew the tea and all the women drink it while they are on this island. Including the Western women." This last was said with a pointed look directly at me.

We continued to talk as the sun sank lower in the sky and my arm found its way around her bare back. Susan scooted closer to me and soon we were beginning to kiss and fondle a little. Susan was sitting on my lap and we had just broken from a long, long kiss as we noticed the sun was nearly disappearing below the ocean. We turned to watch it descend the remainder of its path and just after the upper edge dipped below the horizon, I was startled by a green flash of light which seemed to fill the western sky. Surprised, I asked Susan if she had seen this and she explained that this is a phenomenon of the tropics. She wasn't sure what caused it - something about the refraction of the atmosphere, she thought - but it is sometimes seen and has some legends attached to it. If a pair of lovers see this as they are kissing, it is supposed to mean they will be in love forever. I don't know about the legend, but I can think of worse women to spend my life with than Susan.

We continued to sit and caress each other as the short tropic twilight changed to night and stars started to emerge. "Won't we have trouble seeing the path?" I asked.

Susan replied, "I wouldn't want to try it now, but if we wait a half hour there is a nearly full moon and it shouldn't be any trouble."

It was more than a half hour before we noticed the rising moon. Susan and I continued to kiss and snuggle together and sometime we seemed to have lost our sarongs. I'm not even sure whose idea it was but somehow we ended up on the soft earth, making love with the sound of the tropic breeze and the waves rolling in three hundred feet below us. The other women I have loved in the short time I've been here have all been passionate, exciting and skilled lovers. Susan was definitely all of this, but this time our love making had more of passion than passionate excitement. That's not to say the physical act wasn't as exciting as it was with Che or any of the others, except perhaps Tami, but the act somehow seemed deeper and more fraught with meaning. We continued our activities and I took her three times before we finally fell back and I noticed the bright moonlight illuminating Susan's smooth skin. She looked more lovely than I would have imagined possible.

A little later we slipped on our shoes, but carried our sarongs and, naked above our ankles, with our arms around each other, we made our way back down the path. When we emerged into the area around the main buildings, Susan didn't say a word, but held on to my hand and led me to her house. I don't expect to get much sleep this night, either.

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I laid the journal aside. "What are you stopping for?" Judy asked. "This is incredibly hot. I don't think I've ever been wetter."Then she looked pointedly at my erect cock. "And it appears this is turning you on, too, isn't it?"

I let my fingers brush lightly across both of her hard nipples. She arched her back and pulled against her bonds as she sucked in her breath. Then I let a finger trail down across her bare stomach and pubes and slip inside her soaking slit. "Oh, it's making me hot, all right. And while you may be wet, all this reading is making me a little thirsty."

Judy ran her tongue across her lips and her voice took on a low, sultry tone. "So you're thirsty and I'm wet. Maybe we can work something out."

It wasn't what I was expecting, but the idea drove me to an even more rigid state. I twisted around and let my tongue follow the path explored by my finger: around her nipples, down her stomach and pubes, and in between her swollen pussy lips. Judy groaned again and I began to swirl my tongue over and around her erect clit, now and then letting it penetrate her as deeply as it could reach. For several minutes I ate the restrained beauty, my own need growing while Judy strained through two separate climaxes.

As she began to recover from her second orgasm, I exerted a restraint I wasn't sure I possessed and pulled away. Judy moaned at my withdrawal and begged, "Don't quit now, Paul. I need you."




Spice Plantation Ch. 03



Breathing hard I answered, "I'm not quitting. I just want to take you downstairs where I can tease you a little more first. Wouldn't you like another hour or so of sweet torture?"

Judy was bringing herself somewhat under control. "All right. I don't know how much more I can stand, but take me to the dungeon. But you've got to promise to do more than tease. I need to be really fucked, Lover."

At those words, I almost acquiesced to her request right then, but I was just able to restrain myself. As I released her I said, "Better stop in the bathroom first. Soon, you may be unable to for some time."

Judy headed for the bathroom, stretching and loosening her strained muscles on the way. What Judy and I had been referring to was a small playroom I had built in the basement. As I've said, I've long been a fan or erotic bondage, and had found a few girls - but not nearly enough - with whom to play before I met Judy. Since the two of us had started our games, I had enlarged and added to the playroom. Now I had several pieces of "furniture" including a large padded X-frame, sawhorse, table, and a home built punishment bench. I had a couple of riding crops, several paddles, and three different cats-of-nine tails hanging on the wall. There were also a number of restraint cuffs, ropes, chains, and a few other devices. Over the last couple of months Judy and I had spent quite a few hours playing with these toys.

When she returned from the bathroom, I led her down the stairs to the basement. We entered the playroom, which had a deep, soft carpet covering the floor, and I immediately reached for a pair of large sturdy and padded wrist cuffs. As I began to fasten these snugly around Judy's wrists she realized that I probably had some form of suspension in mind. These cuffs spread the strain and allowed the victim to even be completely hung by the wrists for some time without undue pain or even having his or her circulation cut off. However, this time I didn't have in mind hanging her up like that. 

First, though, I had something else I wanted to try out. "I got a new toy this week and I think this might be a good time to try it out, don't you?"

Judy looked interested. "Just what sort of toy?" she asked.

I went over to a drawer and removed the item from its box. "This," I said as I held it up in front of her. The device consisted of five spheres, ranging in size from three quarters of an inch to about and inch and a quarter in diameter. They were connected, about an inch and a half apart, along a thick cord.

Judy looked at them. "Anal beads? What's new about them?"

We had played with anal beads before and both of us enjoyed the feel of them. But these were a little different. "Oh, they have a couple of unique things about them," I said. Just wait and see. Now, on your knees, Wench."

Still looking a little uncertain, Judy knelt and put her head down on the carpet, leaving her unbelievably attractive ass sticking up in the air. I dipped my finger into a small jar of lubricant and began to work it into her anus. Judy was still very aroused (As was I!) and pushed her bottom back against my hand as I penetrated her anus with my finger, moving it in and out and twisting it back and forth. I spent a couple of minutes, slicking - and playing with - her rear opening and then began to insert the balls, beginning with the smallest. As each sphere forced her anus to strain open and then pop closed again as it slipped inside, Judy let out a mall gasp. By the time I reached the largest, it was taking a fair amount of force and not a little discomfort to complete the intrusion, but Judy didn't complain, only giving out with small gasps and groans as I worked the spheres inside her tight muscle ring.

At last all five beads were well embedded in her rear passage and I led her over to the X-frame. This is a large X-shaped cross, made from two by sixes and well padded with smooth imitation leather. It was mounted so it was tilted back at about a twenty degree angle from the vertical and had a number of sturdy straps and fastening points to bind the victim.

I attached her wrists to strong rings on the upper crosses leaving her with her arms raised well above her head, leaning back, facing outwards from the frame. I bound a wide, soft leather belt around her waist at the cross of the X and then began playing with her nipples. For a full five minutes or more I let my fingers just brush her already hard nubs, eliciting moans, cries and much straining against her bonds. Then I began to pinch and roll her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers. Judy moaned even more, but when I suddenly stopped she seemed even more frustrated. But not for long. I immediately picked up a clamp and let it close over her left nipple.

Judy gave a sharp cry and tried to shake the offending clamp off without any success. These clamps were metal, but not serrated , although they did have fairly strong springs. I made sure it wasn't hurting her too much and then added the matching clamp to her right nipple. For several more minutes I tugged and twisted the clamps, and, as I expected, Judy became even more aroused and wet.

At last I added a couple of small weights to the clamps and then began to slide my hands along her legs. I'm sure Judy expected me to bind her legs apart to the bottom half of the X, but probably not the way I actually did. I added leather cuffs to her ankles and then, taking her left ankle in my hand, bent her knee so that her heel touched the back of her thigh, where I fastened it with a leather strap. I repeated the process with her right leg, leaving her supported mostly by her wrists and somewhat by the leather waist belt. Now I spread her knees and bound each leg to the lower half of the X, opening her wide.

I knelt before her and began to eat her again and soon had brought her to three more orgasms. I could see the strain on her as she hung there, sweat showing on her lovely body, her breasts and pussy both swollen and engorged with blood. But she never made any attempt to stop me. Judy was enjoying this as much as I.

I went back to the drawer and returned with a small black plastic box. "Now you get to see what is special about the beads," I said as I held the box up for Judy to see. It had a wall transformer attached to it by a long cord and on the face were five push buttons and a four position switch. I plugged the transformer into the wall and then took the end of the anal bead cord, which was actually an electrical cable, and plugged it into the box. "The controller has three modes of operation," I began. "First is the manual setting." I rotated the switch from OFF to this position.

"In this mode," I continued in my best professorial tone, "I can use any one or a combination of the push buttons." I demonstrated by pressing one. Judy suddenly strained against her bonds and tried to jerk free. I continued with other buttons. The way this device was constructed, each of the beads contained a vibrator and each operated at a different frequency, giving an entirely different feel to each one. For a number of minutes I continued to play, never letting Judy guess which, or how many, of the beads would be activated or for how long.

"Now the second mode," I continued, "is called 'random'. When I place the switch in this position, the box will activate from one to five beads at random intervals and for random lengths of time. That will leave me free to do other things." I set the box down and moved back in front of Judy's open pussy lips. For the next twenty minutes, while the box and beads delivered stimulation at unexpected intervals, I licked and sucked, I tugged and twisted her nipple clamps, I used a thick dildo. Twice I stopped and applied a cat with soft twelve inch tails to her stomach, breasts, the inside of her thighs, and even to her pussy itself. Then I took a vibrator with a top consisting of a one inch rubber sphere covered with short, flexible protrusions and applied it directly to her swollen clit.

Judy had been having a stream of climaxes, one after another. Her moans and cries were almost non-stop and the vibrating ball applied to her clit started her into another series of three nearly continuous orgasms. As she reached her third I said, "Now we'll try the third mode: Continuous," and I switched the box to the final position. All five beads began to vibrate even harder than before and Judy cried out as she started to come still another time.

This time I stood in front of her and moved close so I could push my hard cock into her, and in a single stroke was pounding hard against her as I held onto the upper part of the frame. Judy screamed and began to come again, even harder than any of her previous times. Not too surprisingly I didn't last very long and was soon pumping what seemed a pint of my fluids into her. As I started to come I grasped the end of the anal bead cord and pulled, forcing the first bead out of her clasping rear. Judy screamed again and came again, even as I tugged out the remaining four beads and drove my own hard member fully into her.

At last I let myself slip out and reached down to shut off the box. Then I released her ankles and began to loosen her from the frame. As I unclipped her wrists, Judy nearly collapsed but I caught her before she could fall. I picked her up and carried her over to a bed - really, just a mattress - that is on the floor in one corner of the room. She was nearly limp as I lay her on the soft sheets and as I lay down beside her and pulled a sheet up over us, I think she was already asleep. I don't think I lasted more than thirty seconds myself.

When I opened my eyes again, Judy was still asleep, but beginning to stir slightly. I kissed her and she slowly opened her eyes. Then she kissed me back. "That was incredible," she said. I agreed but didn't have a chance to comment as she pulled me down in a tight embrace. Before the end of that kiss I was once again rigid and when I let my hand stroke her pussy, I found Judy wet again herself.

We spent another twenty minutes making love. This wasn't hot, hard sex like the encounter on the X-frame, but just as passionate in its own way. When we finally reached our climax and lay back, our breath returning to normal, Judy said, "You know, Paul, this is a pretty good way to spend a weekend."

We both laughed at that and I said, "Well, you did say you wanted to be fucked. Was that good enough, Wench." Then before she could answer, I quickly added, "I'm sorry. I mean, 'Was that good enough, Professor Wench?'"

Judy smiled at me. "It was definitely good enough, but not nearly sufficient ... Professor Stud."

We both broke up laughing and then I said, "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm beginning to feel hungry. If that wasn't sufficient, maybe we'd better get something to eat, to, you know, build up our strength."

Still laughing, with our arms around each other, we headed back upstairs, and were surprised to discover that it was nearly four. We must have slept for three hours or so. Judy said, "I'll see what we can microwave. Why don't you go back into the bedroom and build up the fire again. Then after we eat you can read to me some more. That is, if you're not too thirsty now."

I gave her a little slap on the ass and said, "OK, I'll get the fire going and come back and help you carry stuff in."

When I came back in about ten minutes I found that Judy had discovered an Italian entree in the freezer and now had it cooking in the microwave. She had also opened a bag of salad from the refrigerator and a package of breadsticks. "Aren't convenience foods nice?" she asked, handing me a tray with dishes, napkins, and the salads. "Since we seem to have skipped lunch I thought we might have a real meal and still everything either gets thrown away or shoved into the dishwasher."

I looked at the meal and realized I was fairly hungry. "I'm glad you decided on a meal. I guess we can call this supper and have a snack later if we're still hungry."

"Sure," she answered. "We can digest this while you read to me and then we can have dessert afterwards." The leer on her face left no doubt about what she planned for dessert.

A few minutes later we carried everything back into the bedroom. I set the tray down and then moved over beside Judy who had gone to the window and was standing there, holding the curtains back. I stopped beside her and wrapped my arm around her bare hip.

"Looks like it snowed again," I remarked as I looked out in the gathering dark. The plows hadn't made it to my road yet, the wind was rising once more, and I realized I had no idea what was happening with the weather, the traffic, or anything else outside of the house. I also realized I didn't care.

Judy moved her arm so it fell on my own hip. "Looks like it, Lover. You planning on going somewhere?"

"I'm not planning on going at all," I answered. "Just on coming."

Judy swatted my ass and then a giggle escaped her lips. "Well, I guess that really makes two of us," she said.

"Oh, two of use are definitely going to get made," I teased back.

She let the curtain drop closed and then turned and put her arms around my neck. As she kissed me and pulled her breasts against my chest, she whispered, "Let's eat before the food gets too cold - or we get too hot - and then you can read some more about the South Pacific.



Spice Plantation Ch. 04



Spice Plantation - Ch. 4

When we finished the food, I carried the tray back to the kitchen, dumping the garbage and putting the rest into the dishwasher. Judy was right. While I enjoy cooking and while Judy and I have spent several interesting evenings preparing semi elaborate meals, this convenience form of cooking left a lot of additional time for more interesting activities.

When I returned to the bedroom, Judy had built up the fire and put on her wrist and ankle cuffs again. She was lying on the lounge and when I entered she moved her arms above her head and spread her legs, ready to be tied down. "You really like being tied while I read this, don't you?" I asked.

Judy looked almost embarrassed. "It seems to turn me on more. If you don't want to, just say so."

"I certainly wasn't complaining. I just don't want to get you too cramped or anything. I plan on taking you back downstairs again later. As long as you're comfortable, I love having you like that."

"I'll tell you if I start getting too stiff. On the other hand, if you get stiff I'll be in the right position."

"Your mind really seems to be on one track today, doesn't it. Right track, I'll certainly admit, but definitely on one track. OK, Lover, let's tie you in place." I attached her cuffs to the rings built into the lounge, making sure she wasn't stretched too tightly. Then I spent a couple of minutes stroking her body and teasing her a little. I noticed that when I lightly pinched or sucked her nipples she winced slightly. They were probably still pretty sore from the nipple clamps, but when I asked, she told me to go on.

At last, turning off all the lights except the one I was using to read by, I opened the journal and began to take us back to 1921.



------------------------------------------------



February 27 (Seven Day)

Today is the seventh since my arrival, but I can truly say I feel like I have been here much longer. I have never felt so satisfied with a job or the people I have worked with as I do here. Not to mention the working conditions. All the people I have met are wonderful - both the workers and the staff. Sometimes when you meet a new person you immediately feel either a distinct like or, on the other hand, a distinct dislike, with no particular reason. Sort of "I do not like the Dr. Fell, the reason why I cannot tell ..." Usually a few people out of each score I meet will strike me one way or the other. But here I have immediately felt a great bond with each of the staff members and to a slightly lesser extent with most of the workers. And, more strangely, not one person I have met has "rubbed me the wrong way." Perhaps this is because we all - at least the Westerners - seem to be kindred spirits. (The thought just struck me that several of them - Che, Mai-quan, Ly-mei, Tami, Susan - have, indeed, rubbed me exactly the right way!)

Especially Susan. She and I have spent the last three nights together. I realize that in the strange Wonderland in which I now live the rules are somewhat different and men and women do not group only as one fixed pair. I'm sure that both Susan and I will sleep with others - Susan made that clear early on, after all - but for now neither of us has wanted to bring in anyone else. That first night at her hut we slept very little. The next two in mine resulted in a little more rest but we still made love four or five times each night. I have never met a woman like her.

The plantation has its own work schedule. Instead of the standard week, work here consists of seven days of work followed by three days off. Today is the seventh as the day I arrived was the first of a new work period. Since everything seems to revolve around this schedule I have started noting the day in this journal. Perhaps surprisingly no names have developed other than the rather bland One Day, Two Day, and so on. Perhaps this has to do with von Holt's Teutonic mind.

I have been thinking about what to do with my days off - or maybe, more correctly, exactly how to go about doing it. Either way I want to spend as much time as possible with Susan. Work finishes at about four this afternoon, so maybe at lunch I'll ask her what we might do this "weekend." For now I'd better get back to the details of cinnamon production.

Later

At lunch Susan and I went down to the beach by ourselves. We weren't trying to avoid others, but they just didn't feel like a swim today and we did. I'm just as happy it worked out like that because it gave us a chance to have "dessert" after we ate. Two weeks ago the idea of making love on an open beach in the middle of the day would have seemed outrageous, but now it seemed only nice, not even very unusual.

As we lay together afterwards, I broached the subject of possibly going back up the path to the overlook where we had first made love. I suggested we might take a picnic supper and go there when work ended at two.

Susan propped herself up on one elbow and looked directly at me. "This is your first "seventh day" here, Alex. Has Nate or anyone told you about what happens right after quitting time?" I shook my head. "Well the time right after work is designated as "punishment time." I'm sure Nate told you that we administer our own justice here."

This time I slowly nodded. "He did, but he didn't give me the idea it was a common occurrence. I thought there was almost never a discipline problem."

"There isn't really," Susan replied. "But we do have regularly scheduled punishment sessions and everyone attends. Today I believe there are five whippings scheduled."

I was completely taken aback. Surely there couldn't have been five serious offences in the time I had been here or I would have heard of it. Besides the thought of a flogging made me uneasy. I had witnessed one while I was in the army and I had no desire to view another. I said as much and then added, "What did these five men do to rate something like that anyway?"

Susan must have interpreted the look on my face because she reached out a hand to hold my arm and began, "It's not quite what you think, Alex. Let me explain. First they didn't do anything that awful. And by the way, only two of them are men: the other three are women."

I must have really reacted to that, because she gripped my arm tighter and held me still. "Just let me tell you a little before you make a judgment. I can promise you this will not be anything like any flogging you may have seen in the army. Let me think how to explain this."

She stopped and thought for a few seconds and then began again. "This all started before I got here, but I've been told the story. When von Holt first set up this island, he decreed certain punishments for certain offenses. From all I've heard there were a total of three serious cases the first year: two thefts and one rape. In each case he had the perpetrator given a dozen lashes and sent away from the island. In the case of the rapist the victim was allowed to give the man another six lashes herself. I have heard she placed these so that they will be the ones he will always remember. After these three cases the workers learned and there has never been another serious crime."

"However, you have to remember that in many ways these people are not as sophisticated as Westerners. You know about the rather free attitude towards nudity and sex. This doesn't mean that flirting is unnecessary. One of the ways the men have always tried to impress the girls is by actions which in many places would be described as 'macho.' So, anyway, sometime several months after the last real crime several of the men began to ask questions about what would happen if they took something of small value. It took a little while and a lot of questioning, but the man who was general manager at that time finally discovered what they were trying to do. They wanted a situation where they could show how brave they were by taking a whipping that wasn't really too severe."

"Well, to sum it up, over the last few years a system has developed. A man will take some small item. Then he will report himself to one of the staff. Everyone knows he will return the item and that he will be whipped. Now, before you get to imagining too many things, the whippings are not severe and no real damage results. We all have become quite adept at using the whips so even the skin is almost never broken."

Did I hear right? Did Susan not only watch, but actively participate in these sessions? The look on my face as I stared at her must have been easy for her to read. "Yes, Alex, we all take part. You will also before too long. But now just listen. The result of all this is that when a man wants to show off how tough and virile he is, he arranges to be whipped. Afterwards he always gets a lot of female attention. The women soon noticed this and now they also do the same thing. They know that watching a girl get herself lashed will really excite the men. It really is just a fun game to them."

I was having trouble accepting what she was saying, partly because of the picture I had in my head from that one real flogging I had witnessed. Finally I managed to ask, "And no one really objects to this? They don't mind everyone watching them being lashed?"

"Quite the contrary. Not only don't they not mind, they want to show off, remember. Tell me something, Alex. Haven't you ever spanked a girl?"

I turned a little red. "I'll admit that a couple of times I have, but nothing like a whipping."

"I told you this isn't like a real whipping like I understand they still give out in English courts. We are all very careful so that no one gets really hurt. The staff administers the punishments. We usually take turns and I believe Nate and Joan are doing it today. But everyone - staff and workers - watch. You come with me today and you'll see. Just trust me, Alex. I am a doctor. I'd never let anyone really be hurt."

I still wasn't sure about the whole thing, but I had to admit the idea of seeing one of the native girls bound to a whipping post or such did cause a sort of perverse excitement. Anyway, just after four, Susan came round to my office to fetch me. "Staff usually wear sarongs to these sessions," she said. "The workers are, of course, nude."

She led me to a small building in a clearing off the trail to the workers' living area. I had seen the side trail, but had never ventured down it. Now I saw that in the open area outside the twenty foot square building, were several structures. There were two vertical posts with high cross pieces - the traditional whipping posts. There were also two high horizontal bars, about eight feet off the ground and ten feet long, supported at each end by sturdy posts. And finally there were two other two foot horizontal bars at waist height and four bench arrangements. Each bench consisted of a four by six horizontal beam, padded with heavy canvas. These were about three feet long and supported a little below waist height by slanted legs at either end.

The entire native workforce was assembled in a group around these structures. That is, the entire workforce with the exception of two men and three women. I could see these five back near the side of the building with Joan and Nate. Their hands were bound but from where we were I couldn't identify any of them. The remainder of the staff was standing in a small group. The entire assembly had the air of a festival or party.

Susan and I waved at Bob and George and the two nurses and then stopped by ourselves. I watched as the two men were led forward to stand under the two whipping posts.. I could now see they were wearing padded leather cuffs around their wrists and also around their ankles. Nate summoned four native men and, widely grinning, they came forward and fastened the victims' wrist cuffs to chains on the post crosspieces, leaving the two men helpless, stretched so their toes were just touching the ground.

For their part neither of the victims looked really scared, but rather they were all smiles, what I guessed were wise cracks, and other indications of bravado. When the two victims were secure, the four men stepped back and Nate and Joan moved forward between the two posts. In a clear, loud voice Nate named the two men, called out their offense ( they had taken some small tools ) and announced their fate. "Each will be warmed by the cat and then will receive fifteen lashes, and remain on display."

Nate was holding a cat-of-nine tails with two foot lashes. It looked like the tails were single pieces of flexible leather, about a half inch wide. Unlike the military cat I had seen, these looked as though the lashes were soft leather, well oiled, and not at all stiff and cutting. They would undoubtedly sting like the dickens but probably would not deeply cut into the flesh. As Nate moved behind one of the men and raised the whip, Susan leaned against me and confirmed my observations by saying, "These cats are soft. They sting a little, but mostly just warm the skin up so the whip doesn't do any real damage."

Nate began to land blows on the helpless victim. I immediately noticed that this was nothing like the whipping I had seen. For one thing the blows were not nearly so hard. Admittedly they started easy and seemed to get progressively harder, but never really reached a truly severe level. They left the skin red and caused the men to jerk at each blow and sometimes utter a small sound, but they drew no blood at all. For another thing, they were generally applied to the buttocks rather than the back.

After fifteen or so blows Nate moved away from the man and over to the other where he once again began to swing the cat. Then Joan moved behind the first man. She was wearing only a sarong, her magnificent breasts free and exposed, and in her hand was a single tailed whip. This consisted of an eighteen inch wood handle topped by a four foot braided leather lash. The single tail was fashioned of three pieces of leather, braided together, and ending with three inches of each of the separate leather pieces. It also looked fairly soft, but I was sure it would hurt a lot more than the cat had. The look on my face must have indicated just that, because Susan leaned over again and said, "It looks pretty viscous and can do some damage if the wielder is not careful, but just watch. Joan - for that matter all of us - knows how to use it and all she will do is leave a few small welts on the man's bottom. They'll be gone in a day or two, but until then they will be badges of honor which will get him pretty much any girl he wants."

I wasn't sure how much of that to believe as Joan brought her arm down in a long, graceful arc which ended with the end of the whip crossing both of the man's stretched buttocks, the three fingered tail wrapping on around his left hip. He gave a small stifled cry and a red line immediately appeared across his bare skin. But he didn't react with the fear and resentment I would have expected from the victim of a whipping. Instead he grinned in a show of bravado and I noticed that a number of the girls who were watching were giving him very admiring looks.

By the time the tenth lash landed, he was unable to hold back his cries at each strike, but he still did not act like he was desperate to bring the torture to an end. Joan moved away from him and began on the second man, who responded much like the first to the beating. When she had laid ten on the second fellow, she stopped and Nate motioned to the four native men who had helped bind them there. These four came forward and soon had unfastened the men's wrists and led them over to a place below one of the long horizontal cross beams. As they moved the two men I could see that the lashes had had another effect on the men: both were now sporting at least partial erections. Evidently the stinging lashes had proved to be a stimulation as well as a pain. Two chains were used to attach each man's wrists to the beam. They were left with their arms widely spread and bound overhead with just enough slack to allow their feet to remain flat on the ground.

While they were binding the men I had noticed that the four workers and the two victims exchanged what looked to be joking or teasing comments. Also during this time several of the native girls had maneuvered closer to the beam so now they were standing only a few feet directly in front of them. The looks and actions of these girls could only be described as provocative as they called comments and moved their bodies in deliberately exciting displays.

Joan moved over near the two men and called something to the girls. One of them called something back and everyone laughed. Still laughing, Joan pointed her finger at the girl who had called the comment and at another girl standing next to her and beckoned them forward. She handed each of them a cat like Nate had first used and said something to them. I looked around at Susan and she said, "Joan's going to let a couple of them warm the boys up a little. That doesn't happen often, but just every now and then."

The two women moved in front of the bound men, swinging the whips - as well as their own hips - provocatively. I noticed that both of the men were still partly erect, their members slightly raised. Evidently the whipping didn't hurt enough to prevent that and, in fact, even though I didn't really understand it, seemed to have actually excited them. One girl said something to the man in front of her and he answered back, laughing, almost appearing to dare her to do something. She moved up to him and reached out to cup his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. Then she backed up slightly and swung the cat so the lashes landed across his stomach. The second girl joined her and began swinging at her victim. Soon the men were again jerking at the blows to their stomachs, chests, and already sore bottoms, and emitting small sounds as the whips struck home.

After a dozen or so strokes Joan called something and the women reluctantly stepped back and handed the cats to Nate, but not before each going forward slightly and giving the man's balls another small squeeze. Now Joan once again picked up the four foot single tailed whip. She raised her arm and suddenly brought it forward, laying a sharp blow across the buttocks of the man on her right. He gave a sharp cry and seemed almost to dance a few steps as the pain of the stroke dissipated. Then she moved behind the second man and repeated the stroke with nearly identical results. She returned to the first man and laid another stroke on the opposite diagonal as the first. She continued this until each of the men had received another five strokes, bringing their total to fifteen. In each case the final stroke was harder than the previous ones and she aimed them so that the end of the braided portion of the whip landed on the lower cheek with the three short tails wrapping up into their cracks, maybe even striking directly on the anus. That this stroke really hurt was obvious from the reactions of the two men.

As the men hung by their wrists, regaining their breath, the watching women seemed almost to lean closer in their direction though none actually moved. I could see the hunger in their gazes and I thought back to what Susan had said about the men getting their pick of girls. It seemed that this would be very likely.

Now the three women were led forward and I was surprised to see that Tami was one of them. All three were brought near Nate and Joan and Nate again called out their names and small offenses. He finally loudly stated, "Each will be warmed with the cat. Each may choose to either receive ten lashes and be on display or to receive five strokes and be quay-ri."

I turned to Susan and asked, "What is quay-ri?"

She grinned. "It means, literally, 'available.'" Then seeing the confusion in my eyes added, "All the victims will remain tied on display for three hours. If a girl wants quay-ri, it means she will be tied in a position where any man who wants can have her while she is there."




Spice Plantation Ch. 04



I was stunned. "You mean she will be used for sex by just anyone? Out here where any one can see?"

Susan laughed. "That's right, Alex. I told you the natives looks on these sessions as games. And sex games are some of their favorites. Remember no one is here who doesn't want to be. All of those girls knew what they were doing when they took those things and then turned themselves in. Also, they don't have to choose quay-ri if they don't want."

As I watched, the first two girls each threw their shoulders back, arching their breasts forward and threw out their hips in a decidedly erotic stance and clearly stated she would take the five and be quay-ri. I could tell from the looks of the native men who were watching that their choice was well received.

Then Tami came forward. She looked even more provocative than the other two in her stance and moves. In a derisive voice she began in English. "These two are children. A real woman ...." Then she lapsed into some phrases of the local language I couldn't understand, but which brought laughs from Susan as well as the two nurses standing nearby. She continued, "Tami real woman. Tami will take ten strokes AND stand quay-ri. No. Tami will take fifteen like the men."

Susan leaned over again and said, "Tami is a real fiery one. But then you already know that, don't you?" I felt myself turning slightly red, but Susan continued, "She'll try to show up the others and I bet she succeeds and I can guarantee she won't lack for male companionship the next few days - as if she ever does."

Nate and Joan looked over at Tami. Finally Nate said, "Very well. It will be so." He motioned to his helpers once again and soon the first two women were led to two of the padded benches. Each girl was placed at one end of the padded beam, facing it. Her legs were widely spread and her ankles anchored to the supporting A-frame of the units. She was then bent forward along the beam and her wrists anchored to the legs at the other end. Because of the height of the beams, the girls were left stretched along the length of the padded cross member, their breasts hanging down on either side, their bottoms slightly higher than anything else, and their private parts fully exposed.

Tami was instead taken over to one of the horizontal beams like the one to which to which the men were tied. Soon she was tied with her arms raised and spread, her feet just able to stand on the ground, her bottom - and the rest of her lovely body - fully on display.

Now Joan used one of the cats to "warm up" Tami, striking her a good two dozen strokes, mostly on her rounded bottom, but also around onto her front and even a couple that I am sure struck her breasts. Tami jerked and made some small cries, but otherwise made no attempt to stop the punishment. Then Nate moved in with the four foot lash. He gave a couple of practice strokes out in the air, snapping the end in a loud pop. For the first time Tami looked a little apprehensive, like maybe she had bitten off more than she wanted to try and chew, but she still didn't object. Finally Nate raised his arm and send a singing blow down across her tight buttocks. She let out a squeal and her feet seemed to almost do a dance for several seconds as she assimilated the pain of the stroke. A red line appeared across her smooth skin. A second blow followed the first with a similar squeal and dance.

I could tell that while Tami wasn't being severely beaten, the lashes did hurt. I could see the red lines appear and hear the effect of the snapping leather in the sound of her voice as she cried out. But what surprised me most was the effect it seemed to have on me. I felt myself growing hard at the sight.

Nate continued to whip her until she had received a total of ten lashes. Tears were running down her face as she was removed from the bar and led over to another of the benches like the ones on which the other two women were bound. She had been crying but she was also smiling and looked as though she was full of pride for having undergone the ordeal. The looks she gave to her admiring audience of men definitely contained an invitation, if not a whole series of them. When she was firmly bound in place on the bench, Nate used the cat to warm all three women, mostly on their bottoms, but also whipping their flanks and even the sides of their breasts. When he stopped, Joan picked up the single tailed whip. She delivered a stroke to each of the three in turn. And each brought a cry and left a red welt. I could see that this was not only arousing me, but the native men who had edged in closely to watch were almost all showing erections. She continued to go from one to another until she had given each five lashes and, like with the men, the final lash was especially hard, wrapping the ends of the tails down into the crack of their arses, bringing a scream from each of the bound women.

As Joan stepped back and a murmur began to move through the assembled crowd, Susan leaned against me again. "I can see that did something to you, Alex." She reached forward and clasped her hand around my hard member through the material of my sarong. I turned bright red but she just laughed. "Don't worry about it. Almost any man would be excited by that. Remember no one was really hurt and the 'victims' wanted it themselves. I should tell you that staff get first crack at the victims. Notice that Bob and George are moving in on the two girls and Jen and Deb are already fondling the men. Why don't you go over and sample Tami? She is quay-ri, after all."

I couldn't tell if Susan was teasing me or not. I looked and she was right about the two nurses over stroking the bound men and Bob and George were behind the two women, their sarongs lying on the ground as their hands gripped the two pairs of hips, their groins pressing against hot, red buttocks.

Susan took my hand and began to tug. "I'm serious, Alex. I'm sure Tami did part of that for you and she would definitely have her feelings hurt if you don't show her some attention. Come on."

Almost in a daze I felt myself being pulled along by the wrist. Before I realized it I was standing behind Tami and Susan placed both of my hands on Tami's red cheeks. The touch of the hot, red, firm flesh further stiffened my rod, but I still had no intention of doing anything more than feeling Tami up a little. Then I suddenly felt Susan tug my sarong free and push me against that firm, hot arse. At that point I ceased to think and instead only acted. I grasped her hips and pushed myself against her. My rod touched her entrance and I discovered she was soaked and dripping. Susan gave my rear a push and I felt myself slide into that tight, wet tunnel which clamped onto me with a grip nearly beyond belief.

The effect was not only on myself. Tami strained against her bonds and threw her head back as far as her bound position allowed. She began to cry out, "Fuck Tami. All fuck Tami." This drove me even harder and I began to pound in and out and in only a very short time, I exploded into Tami's very willing body.

As I came back down to earth, I realized I had just fucked a woman in public and not only that, but I had done it with the woman I had been sleeping with at my side and urging me on. My head spinning I looked around, but all eyes were on the bound victims. A number of women were playing with the men. In fact, Jenny was on her knees in front of one of them, her mouth bobbing up and down on his rigid rod. Two native women were fondling the second man, cupping his balls, licking the head of his shaft, and poking fingers into his anus. George and Bob had finished with the two women and now two native men had taken their places. I looked back at Tami and was surprised to see Nate, ramming her from the rear as Joan knelt beside them, one hand playing with Nate's privates while the other teased her own.

I had gotten used to a lot of things in the last week, but this was more than I had expected. I was nearly in shock, not only at what was going on, but also at my part in it. Susan seemed aware of my feelings and took my arm. Tugging me away, she said, "Come on, Alex. This really isn't any different than everything else you discovered in the last week. Let's go somewhere away from here and then we can talk about it - or if you'd rather do something besides talk, I'll certainly be in favor of it."

We made our way down a path to the shore where we had been having our picnic lunches. I was in such a state that I didn't realize until we stopped at the water's edge that I hadn't even bothered to pick up my sarong. Now Susan handed it to me. "Look, Alex," she said. "I know this whole thing must seem awfully strange the first time. I remember what I felt like after the first punishment session I saw. But you have to remember that nothing happened that wasn't wanted by everyone. Just why do you think Tami placed herself in that spot? Can you honestly say she wasn't as excited as she was with you the other night?"

For several seconds I looked at her. Of course she - and probably everyone else - knew Tami had spent a night with me earlier in the week. I just hadn't really thought about it. Now I brought myself under control and in a little bit I slowly said, "No, if anything she was more excited. That isn't what has me so confused. I know no one was made to do anything they didn't want. What I hadn't expected, what surprised - or I probably should say - what shocked me, is the way I reacted. I said I'd spanked a couple of girls and, yes, we both found it exciting. But there's a big difference between a couple of slaps on the bottom and a whipping like that. I didn't expect it to get me so aroused, but I can't deny it did."

Susan looked into my eyes. "It really isn't surprising, Alex. You didn't expect it because it's something completely outside your experience. Nearly every man is fascinated by the idea of seeing a woman punished, just as nearly every woman will get excited at the thought of a man getting it. We just generally suppress those ideas for two reasons. First, it's something that's no longer openly done in our society. Secondly, while the idea of punishment is sexually exciting, as civilized people the idea of real severe or unwanted pain and damage is repugnant to all but a few sick individuals. So we believe we should not get aroused by the idea of punishment. Here, we've separated the two and the only thing that goes on here is, for want of a better term, play. If you got aroused by watching someone really get flayed I'd be very concerned. But I'm sure you'd find that as repulsive as I - or any of the rest of us - would.

Slowly I said, "I guess I can maybe accept that. At least in my mind. But it still shocked me that I'd be aroused seeing a woman hurt."

"She wasn't really hurt, Alex. At least not in the clinical sense. Of course it hurt, but if you haven't already noticed you will, that a little pain is often involved in sexual simulation. Think about how a girl will sometimes dig her fingernails into your back. You've had that happen, haven't you?" I nodded. "Didn't you find that exciting?" Again I nodded. "And haven't you ever pinched or bitten a nipple and didn't the girl seem to like it?"

"If you put it like that, yes. It just seemed different somehow. Look, Susan, A couple of weeks ago I could never have imagined even talking about things like this, especially with a woman. I just don't know what to think or feel."

"That's not surprising. This is an entirely new world. It's just as big a shock to Westerners as a trip to London would be to an islander who has never seen anything more complicated than a stone ax. Just let yourself have a chance to adapt. In the meantime, just trust us. Trust me. Your reactions are normal, so don't worry about them. Trust us that there's no harm in anything that's going on here and just let yourself go and enjoy it." Then she put her arms around me and kissed me.

For the next several hours Susan and I stayed down on the beach by ourselves. I did a lot of thinking and even though I still don't feel completely right with all of my own reactions, I have come to accept them in the fashion in which Susan suggested. The overriding question I have begun to ask myself about everything that's happened here - not just the punishment session, but about the nudity and the free sexual behavior and so on - is this: Where's the harm? If there is no damage to anyone, is there anything wrong with it?

That's not to say that there is no such thing as right and wrong. It's wrong to kill, for example, but not necessarily in war or in self defense. Adultery is usually considered wrong by most societies. But if you examine the reasons why you can see that in general such behavior usually hurts individuals and weakens the family and in most societies the family has evolved as the best way to bring up children.

As Susan explained and as I have come to believe - at least intellectually - here, in our closed society, we have taken away most of the reasons against behavior which would be much against the good of most cultures. There are no children on the island and, thanks to the "tea" brewed by the natives, there will not be unless by choice. Social disease is unknown here, again because of our closed society. When we leave here, as I'm sure we someday will, we will probably change again to fit our surroundings, even if not completely. After all, we are all of us somewhat apart from the norm of "civilization." But for now, I can find no answer to "where is the harm?" which would suggest a need to curb our activities.



February 28 (Eight Day)

The staff didn't meet for dinner last night. I learned that this is typical of these "weekend" days. (Usually they are just designated as SevenDay, EightDay, NineDay, and TenDay.) Often several will get together for dinner and/or a party at one of the residences, but also staff members will often disappear with each other or with one or more of the natives. Last night Susan and I ate at her hut and I ended up spending the night there. I will admit that by evening I had largely gotten over my initial shock at the activities of the afternoon and by the time we finished eating I was as ready as ever to join Susan in energetic and loving play.

This morning as Susan and I were entering the bathhouse, Joan and Nate were just leaving. We stopped and spoke with them for a few minutes. ( Surprising that it no longer even seems unusual to just stop and talk with all of us stark naked. ) Before they left, Joan and Nate invited both Susan and myself over to their hut for dinner and "a little party." I was a little uncertain, still not having completely come to grips with what I had watched them doing yesterday, but before I could decide to either accept of try to produce an excuse, Susan answered for both of us, saying that we'd love to come. I guess I'll find out exactly how I feel tonight.

From hints Susan has let drop, I expect the we'll all probably stay up most of the night. I don't know if they plan on just talking or playing board games or maybe more intimate activities, but I didn't want to appear too neophyte, so I just held my tongue. In any case Susan suggested we sleep some this afternoon so we'll be awake later. I expect that is what she's doing now, and I guess I should put this journal away and do likewise.

March 1 (Nine Day)

We definitely had a party last night.

Susan came around to my hut very late in the afternoon to gather me up. She was wearing a long sarong and waited while I put on a knee length model of my own. I probably haven't been too clear about the typical dress here. While there are not too many hard and fast rules, there are a couple. To begin with, as I have said, the only clothing the native workers ever wear is that necessary for protection. This generally means the men wear sarongs only when doing hard work in the fields. The women might wear aprons or such while cooking or some other task requiring it. At all other times the natives go completely nude. And while there are not a lot of rules, there are some, call them, customs.

During working times, the Western staff wear some form of clothing. Usually Nate and I wear a sarong. Bob and George will sometimes dress in sarongs, but most frequently they may be found in American Levis, either full length or cut off into shorts. Perhaps because they are often dealing with some form of moving machinery they feel more comfortable than they would in a sarong. Less chance of catching something important in the gears, so to speak. Susan, Jenny and Deborah wear white lab coats as a symbol of their profession and Joan typically teaches school dressed in a long sarong.

Part of the reason for our working dress has to do with practical protection and part with showing a symbol of authority. When we eat dinner together, usually all of us will adopt the sarong, but this isn't a hard and fast rule. Often George and Bob retain their Levis, for example. But when we enter our own huts, everyone has gotten into the habit of stripping completely. Of course I knew a little of the dress code before I arrived, but I was in no way prepared for it. However, after only two or three days I was surprised to find that I was quite comfortable in "going native" and started dropping my sarong immediately upon entering my hut.

The other custom, which I had suspected from some comments I had heard, was confirmed by Susan before we left. "Usually," she said, "when we go to someone's place for dinner or to visit, we treat it like our own hut. If our host is not wearing anything when we arrive, we usually hang our sarongs near the door. Also, a lot of times there will be one of the natives there, so it makes things more relaxed - less like a work situation - if we strip. I'm sure you won't mind seeing Joan bare tonight, will you?"

Susan had the knack of saying just enough to embarrass me so that I could never be sure if I was turning more red at the thought she described or because she had me pegged exactly right. Now I flushed as I pictured Joan's large, firm breasts and her tight bottom. Somehow I managed to answer back in an almost casual manner, "I suspect I'm used to it enough to handle things."

Then Susan completely flustered me by turning and looking back at me over her shoulder and saying, "I'm sure you'll get a chance to handle them before we leave." Then, before I could say anything in response, she turned and led the way from my hut.

We walked the short distance to the hut Joan and Nate shared and called out a greeting as we entered. Susan was right in that both Joan and Nate were completely bare as they greeted us. Also Che and Ly-mei were both present and both were, of course, completely nude. Susan and I both unwrapped our own sarongs and hung them on pegs near the door. Once again I was surprised that this act no longer really bothered me and I hardly thought twice about it.

Dinner was a dish of local shell fish that Joan and Che had prepared along with some fresh baked Western style bread. Instead of the usual European table and chairs, we all sat cross legged on a rug on the floor around a low table, almost Japanese style. The food was excellent and Nate provided a drink he informed me was a form of native beer. The meal was slow and casual and conversation flowed easily from all present.

At some time Joan had said that Jenny and Deborah were eating an early dinner with some of the men, but that they had promised to drop by afterwards for the party. I had earlier asked Susan a few questions about what we would be doing at the party, but all she had done was respond to my inquiries with a somewhat smug smile. I was still uncertain just what this "party" was supposed to be when Jen and Deb called out and entered. After everyone had said hello, Nate called for attention.




Spice Plantation Ch. 04



"Well, as you all know - or rather all except Alex - the reason for this party is to give all of you a chance to really get to know Alex, or maybe I should say Kawi-Kawi." There were several soft laughs and a few giggles. "Susan," he continued while I turned slightly red, "already knows him pretty well, so she and I will find something to do while you five lovely women get better acquainted."

By now I was beginning to get the idea and Susan leaned over and whispered, "Have fun, Darling. Try to have a little left for me, won't you?" Then she kissed my cheek and let Nate pull her back as the five naked women advanced on me. With all of them - and myself - laughing I let them pull me into the bedroom. They pushed me back down on my back onto the bed. I had resigned myself, not that it took a lot of convincing, to just enjoy what was going to happen, but I was totally surprised when two girls grabbed each of my wrists and soft ropes were wound around each. I was beginning to struggle a little but, even as large as I am, I was no match for five strong women - at least not without trying to really hurt them and I certainly wasn't apprehensive enough to want to do that.

The result was that within a couple of minutes I found myself with my arms spread above my head and tied to the bed frame. Then they quickly moved to my feet and soon my ankles were similarly spread and anchored.

Joan was first, but did not act alone. She began to use her hands to play with my not so private parts, but the other four were also busy toying with other parts of my body. Despite the fact that I had never taken part in anything like this before, I quickly found myself hard and when Joan swung her bare leg across my waist and lowered herself onto my rampant tool, I was eager to help even with four other desirable women teasing me. She quickly impaled herself and began to rise and fall back against my groin while my vision was filled with her large, firm breasts bouncing hard with each impact. This seemed to go on for a long time, but not nearly long enough. As we were calming down a little afterwards I heard the sound of Susan's voice coming from the other room along with some gasping comments from Nate. The sounds left no doubt about what the two of them were doing and I suddenly realized it didn't bother me in the least. I guess I knew Susan would still be there when all of this was past.

As I said Joan was the first, but not the last. When she convulsed and threw herself down hard against my chest, I expected to be released at least for awhile. Instead she merely moved back a little and Deb began to run her tongue up the insides of my thighs while Jen sucked at my sensitive nipples. It wasn't a long time before I was once again hard and ready for more, which Deb provided with even more enthusiasm than had Joan. When Deb finished I think I fell asleep for a short time but I awoke to the attention of Jen's lips on my once more hardening member.

Things became kind of bleary after that but I'm sure I remember each of the women taking a turn with me and then starting over. I fell asleep a couple of times, but I'm sure it wasn't for very long any time. By the time I awoke the last time it was becoming light outside. ( Jenny later told me I had managed twice with each of them plus a lot of oral activity. No wonder I felt sore and exhausted! ) The five women released me and helped me - I might very well have fallen by myself - out to the main room. Here Susan and Nate were lying together on a mat. They were just talking but I could see they had been doing something else shortly before.

Susan kissed Nate and then stood to come over to me. Even in my dazed state I noticed the drip of liquid down the inside of her thighs and the flushed look on her face. She came to stand directly in front of me and Jen and Deb each handed her one of my hands. She leaned forward and gave me a deep kiss, her breasts brushing my chest. Then she looked around at the others and asked, "Was he worth it?"

They all laughed and called out excitedly. Joan said, "At least as good as you promised. I want him all to myself one night - if I think I can take it."

This was met with more laughs and remarks from the other four. Each of the women came up and gave me a deep kiss and murmured something. I'm afraid I can't really remember anything they said, but I don't think any of them acted disappointed. Finally Joan said, "Susan, you'd better take him back and let him sleep a little." Then she turned to me and said, "Welcome to paradise, Kawi-Kawi." Susan led me back to my own hut and as I collapsed onto my bed, she lay beside me. I'm not sure about her, but I wasn't awake more than thirty seconds or so.





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Once more I laid the journal aside, but let my hand continue to tease and play with Judy.

She had been listening intently to every word and seemed as excited as I did myself. I leaned over and kissed her and whispered, "I don't think Tami should be the only one to get her ass warmed, do you?"

Judy's eyes lit up and she ran her tongue across her lips. "No, I don't think she should."

As I have said, Judy and I have found we like the stimulation of mild - and sometimes, not quite so mild - BDSM play. Occasionally I'm on the receiving end and I find these times just as exciting as the others, but usually Judy is the victim. She loves bondage and never fails to get really turned on when I bind her tightly and whip or otherwise torment her lovely body before fucking her in one or more of her holes. The bondage and pain by itself is not what really drives us on, so I guess purists would not really consider us "part of the lifestyle." This is all right with us. All we care about is that the games provide us with immense pleasure.

I let Judy free and we both made a trip to the bathroom. Returning, I pulled the curtain aside and looked out onto a landscape about as far removed from the South Pacific as possible. It was no longer snowing and the wind had dropped somewhat. However, feathery gusts showed the wind was still present, even if not in its most robust form. The sky was still overcast, no stars showing. In fact, it looked like a world at standstill. My road had not been visited by the plow at all and where I could just see the main road, no moving lights showed. The houses I could see mostly showed a couple of lighted windows, but no outside illumination. It looked as though all the world's inhabitants were snuggled away with no intention of reemerging until spring - or at least until the snow plows came.

I let the curtain drop and turned to find Judy holding out a glass or orange juice. "I wouldn't want you to get too thirsty again," she commented.

I took the drink and kissed her. "No, we wouldn't want that. But I think before we read any more I want to take you back downstairs and whip that tight little ass of yours."

"I might like that. As long as whipping it isn't all you do."

I grinned at her. "Oh, I have several things planned. After all, there's no hurry. We can sleep late tomorrow. And the next day, for that matter." We finished our drinks and with my arm around her waist, we started back down to our little dungeon.

We entered the room and I turned on some indirect lighting. I picked up a medium cat and as I turned back around, Judy wrapped her arms around my neck and began to explore the back of my mouth with her tongue. I joined in the exploration and for the next two or three minutes we concentrated on seeing how hot a kiss could be. When we finally broke away, both of us a little breathless, I let the tails of the cat slowly drag across Judy's ass, up over her shoulder and down across her taut breasts and hard nipples. She sharply sucked in her breath and I asked, "Just how hard do you feel like playing?"

Still breathing fast, she replied, "I'm horny as hell. I think maybe you should really work me over."

My own breath coming quite rapidly I answered, "Yeah. We've still got two days before we have to go back to work. I can even mark you a little. Would you like that?"

As I have said, we are not really into severe pain or torture. Normally the most our whipping and spankings will do is leave the skin red for a few hours. But once in a while we like to use the whips and straps hard enough to leave a few welts which might stick around for a couple of days. We have to be really turned on to want this - especially Judy - but when we are it is an incredible stimulation to both of us. Even when I'm on the receiving end, I still find it so. 

Now we were both already very aroused. Judy looked at the cat and licked her lips. "Yes! Just don't damage me so much that I won't feel like playing tomorrow. But I don't think a few welts will be too much. I haven't been this hot in a long time."

Judy was still wearing wrist and ankle cuffs and now I led her over to our "horse." This device is designed to be used on a woman and Judy tells me it can be quite uncomfortable. But when she is aroused it intensifies the punishment many times over. The horse consists of a triangle made from two two by sixes, about three feet long. The two boards are joined together at a right angle along their edges and mounted on supports at either end. This leaves the joined edge upwards, supported about three feet off the floor. The length of the joint is smoothed and somewhat rounded and the entire device is sanded and varnished.

When Judy saw where I was taking her, she realized she was going to be in for a severe session, and if anything her excitement seemed to grow. She knew what to do. She spread her legs slightly and straddled the beam, which I adjusted to a height slightly below her crotch. Next I clipped her wrists together and attached them to a chain hanging from the ceiling, raising her hands high over her head. This didn't strain her arms, but left little free play. Next I took a three food wood bar with snap clips attached at either end. I clipped one end to her right ankle cuff.

Then I stopped and let my hands glide over her breasts, rubbing my palms around and across her nipples. After a couple of minutes of this, I asked, "Ready?"

She didn't even try to reply, but just gave a quick nod of her head. I took her right ankle and bent her leg at the knee so that her ankle was nearly as high as the triangular beam. I placed the wood bar attached to that ankle across the triangular beam about a foot behind where she straddled it. Then I took her left ankle and raised it, bending her other knee, until I could clip the other end of the bar to that ankle cuff. This left Judy contacting the triangular edge of the beam only with the most sensitive parts of her crotch. I spread her lips so the beam edge slipped between them. This insured that she wasn't getting pinched and also that the beam edge would press directly against her sex. She could lessen the pressure slightly in two ways: If she used her arms to pull against the overhead chain, some of the pressure could be eliminated. Also if she used her leg muscles to force the wood bar connecting her ankle cuffs against the beam, she could slightly raise herself. The problem with either of these methods was that she couldn't keep it up for very long. As her muscles tired, her weight would slip back against the narrow edge and once more torture her sensitive pussy.

Just riding the horse was quite a punishment in itself. As the victim tired, she could hold herself for shorter and shorter times before slipping back and having her own weight bring pain to her most sensitive parts. But we usually did more than just let her ride. Now I took the cat with eighteen inch tails and gave an easy slap to her stomach. I followed this by a slightly harder one. Then I began to let them climb until the tails were stinging her taut breasts with each stroke. I moved around, sometimes striking her stomach, sometimes the firm globes of her ass, and sometimes the reddening flesh of her sensitive breasts and nipples.

Soon Judy was crying out at nearly every stroke. And each stroke made her jerk, rocking her pussy against the unyielding ridge of the horse. But I knew I wasn't going too far. Judy had her safewords and she gave no indication of wanting to use either of them. In fact it was the contrary. A couple of times she called comments like, "Come on, are you a wimp? You can whip me harder than that."

I took her advice and began to increase the strength of the blows and to vary the time between them so she couldn't guess where or even when the next lash would fall. I concentrated on her breasts and her ass. Soon both of these were nearly solid red and showing some darker red lines which I knew would still be there in the morning.

At last it began to look like I was nearing the limit of what I wanted to do to her lovely breasts, even if she might want more. They would be sore and red for a while, but the skin wasn't broken and I was sure there would be no real bruises. I moved around to lash her ass exclusively and here I could make the blows somewhat more severe. Still, no skin was broken, but she would show the welts for at least a day or two.

I kept the whipping up for some twenty minutes or so until I finally decided Judy had had enough of the horse. I gave her a final half dozen strokes, adding enough twist to make them really sting and being rewarded with a scream for each. With the last one, Judy began to convulse in orgasm and I'm sure the extra rocking back and forth heightened the pressure of the rail edge, making her climax all the more intense.

At last she hung forward against the restraint of the ceiling chain and I began to release her. When I finally unhooked her wrists, she practically fell into my arms and I held her close, my hand stroking her hot, red ass as her sore breasts pressed against my chest. In a few seconds, Judy roused somewhat and said, "More, Paul. Whip me some more and than fuck the daylights out of me." How could I resists an invitation like that?

I moved her over to one of our punishment benches. This one consisted of a padded two by six rail supported on each end by an adjustable A-frame. I moved her so she was facing one end and anchored her ankles to the bottom of the A-frame. Our benches are ones I custom made and have some unique features. For example, when the victim is anchored, the shape of the frame and the tie points force her toes to turn inwards. This opens the buttocks and makes it impossible for her to clinch her ass cheeks together no matter how hard she tries. I say "she" but of course the same holds true for me when Judy places me on the frame. The height was adjusted so that when I bent Judy forwards along the length of the rail her ass was raised slightly higher than her back. I used one of the wide, attached leather straps to cinch her waist tightly to the rail. The end of the rail was now pressing against her pubic bone and both of her openings were clearly on display and available.

Judy lay along the length of the rail, her full breasts hanging down along either side of its six inch width. I'm sure she fully expected me to tie her wrist cuffs to the other end of the A-frame, for she stretched her arms in that position. However, I had something different in mind. But even before binding her arms, I surprised her with something else. I took an eight inch vibrating dildo, one covered with soft plastic spikes - well, slender, rounded protrusions - and touched her open pussy lips with the rounded end. Judy was obviously aroused and when I pressed slightly a flood of liquid provided ample lubrication so I could slide the intruder in to its full depth in a single, slow thrust. I then used a special clamp to attach the end of the dildo to the frame so no matter how much Judy twisted or squeezed it would stay fixed inside her.

Now my second surprise. I moved around to the other end of the bench and reached down for her wrists. Instead of binding them to the sides of the A-frame, I brought them together out beyond where her head was resting against the padded rail. I clipped the two together and attached a light chain. Then, using a small stool, I began to raise her bound wrists. Because her waist was anchored with the leather belt, this caused her to bend backwards at the waist and I continued until she was tightly stretched in a backwards arch. I then fastened the chain to a hook on the ceiling, leaving her spread and open, arched backwards, and tightly stretched.

Judy, as I have said, has a magnificent body and stretched like this it looked unbelievably sexy. A slight sheen of sweat reflected points of the soft lighting and the curves of her strained muscles shone clearly. The red lines on her tight ass only added to the effect. She was beginning to breathe a little faster again and as I walked around in front of her, I saw her lick her lips in what I can only describe as a hungry act. I held up a pair of clover clamps. "Think you can handle these?" I asked.


Judy stared at the metal devices and once again licked her lips. I noticed that, even as a look of what might have been apprehension, touched her eyes, her nipples hardened even more in anticipation. After a few seconds she nodded her head and said, "Let's give it a try."

I squeezed one of the clamps open and used my other hand to brush back and forth across her right nipple. Then I moved the clamp and let the rubber tipped jaws close. Judy sharply sucked in her breath, but made no other sound, even though I knew her tits must have been rather sore from the earlier whipping. These clamps have rubber covered jaws, but the rubber is not smooth, but rather a pattern of small, sharp peaks. These grip better than a smooth surface would, but also hurt a little more. I took the other clamp and moved around to repeat the process with her left nipple. This time she couldn't hold back a small moan. Finally I added a three ounce lead weight to each clamp. Clover clamps tighten as more strain is placed on them, so this had the effect of both squeezing her nipples harder as well as stretching her breasts downwards.

"All right, Wench. Now we're going to spend a long, long time torturing your beautiful body." I turned on the vibrator and took the cat I had used earlier to begin a slow, uneven flogging. With her body displayed like that I could whip her almost anywhere. I concentrated on her tight ass, but I didn't spare her stomach, her thighs, her back, or even her tormented breasts. I struck at irregular intervals and in unexpected places. The blows hurt. I watched as Judy jerked and strained at each, heard her moans, cries, and occasional screams, and saw the glimmer of sweat increase. But I also saw the increase in the drip of her fluids down her legs, the increase in her breathing. And before too long I saw her begin to convulse in climax.

Sometimes I would stop and tease her body, running my hands over her red rear, tugging slightly at the clamps, stroking and fingering her open asshole. Judy reacted favorably to all of this and I was having a difficult time preventing myself from ramming my raging hard on into her. But I knew if I could prolong the session, the end result would be even better.

I kept her there, torturing her in a variety of ways, for a long time. I'm not sure, but I think it was over forty-five minutes - and a half dozen orgasms - before I decided she was reaching her limits. I used the cat to deliver another dozen strokes and then put it down. I picked up a riding crop and held it where she could see it. "I think maybe five with this and then you are going to be fucked like you've never been fucked before. Ready, Lover?"

Judy was breathing fast, but she nodded her head. I stepped back beside her well presented bottom. She already had a number of small welts and most of the skin was a bright red, but as I brought the crop down in a sharp, horizontal stroke, a line immediately appeared and Judy let loose with a sharp scream. I waited a couple of seconds to make sure she didn't want to safeword out, and then I delivered another stroke slightly above the first. This - and the next three - also brought a scream, but she also started to climax again.




Spice Plantation Ch. 05



As I opened my eyes I could see daylight around the edges of the curtain. I moved myself gently away from Judy and climbed out of bed without disturbing her. I noticed a lot of the redness was gone, but there were still a few welts across her smooth skin. Nothing that wouldn't disappear within a couple of days, but I suspected she was still going to be a bit sore today.

I moved over to the window and glanced out around the edge of the curtain. The sky was a cloudless cobalt and the glare of the intense sun reflecting from the white ground was almost blinding. The wind had finally dropped and I could see a plow moving along the main road, a half mile distant, but my road had yet to be touched.

I let the curtain drop back into place and made a quiet trip into the bathroom. When I returned, clean shaven once again, I saw that Judy was still asleep. Instead of waking her, I made my way to the kitchen and spent twenty minutes making a breakfast of scrambled eggs, bacon, and some sliced fruit. I took this and a pot of hot tea back into the bedroom where I found Judy just returning from the bathroom. "Good morning, Lover. I hope I didn't leave you too sore from last night."

She came over and kissed me. "No, not too sore anyway. But, it was worth it. I don't think I've ever come that much or that hard, Paul. I'm still tender in a few places, so don't count on whipping me like that again today. But I'm still horny, so don't count on getting to rest too much today either."

I built up the fire again and we ate breakfast sitting on the thick rug in front of it. Then we made love in front of it. This time it was a long, slow lovemaking, different, but just as good in its way as the hot session in the dungeon the previous night. I think one of the reasons I've come to like Judy so much is that she can be many different women. Hot and fiery, soft and romantic, a determined fencing opponent, the perfect academic professor, or a hundred others. In the last few weeks I've begun to admit to myself that I think I'm falling in love with her. I believe Judy feels somewhat the same and I've been working up my nerve to say so. In the mean time neither of us has a problem with just enjoying each other's company - not to mention the fantastic sex.

As we lay together in the afterglow of the loving, Judy kissed me and said, "Don't think I've forgotten about your uncle. I still want to hear more of his story." She reached up to the longue and handed me the old journal. "Let's just lie here while you read me some more."

---------------------------------

March 5 ( Three Day)

I have been rather busy the last few days and haven't really had a chance to record any of my activities here. I should say I have been rather busy the last three days. The two days after the "party" were not especially rigorous, as Susan and I spent both of them relaxing with no more strenuous activities than swimming or a few walks around the island. Well, there was some rather strenuous activity for a number of short periods if you count sex. I, for one, definitely count sex. I can hardly believe the change which has come over me in my attitudes in the last couple of weeks since my arrival. Not that I didn't think about sex prior to that, but it was not my custom to have that as the number one topic, not only of thought, but also in many conversations. Life on this closed isle is indeed a world away from what I have always thought of as "civilization." However, I believe even an unbiased observer would admit that in actuality most of the activities here are far more civilized than in the developed world of Europe.

Since the start of the new work period (One Day), however, I have been kept quite busy during almost all of each day. I am beginning to see that there very well may be more required of me here as General Manager than there ever was at the canning factory. But even if I have more work to do, I find that I am enjoying it a lot more also. There are no silly pretensions unrelated to actual work just to please a boss. I don't have someone always second guessing my decisions or asking me to explain them. I have do doubt that if I do a poor job there would definitely be some explaining to do, but as long as I function well, no one interferes.

There is also the incredible benefit of the working conditions. The climate far exceeds Glasgow at its best, the natural beauty of sun, sea, and the island is everywhere pervasive, not to mention the natural beauty of the workers. The overall attitude of both staff and workforce alike leaves one with a feeling of well being which seems to instantly wipe away any problems encountered during the work day. It's more than just the free attitude towards love and sex, even though that is definitely a big part of it. I haven't slept alone even once since I arrived.

This brings me to something else. I may have given the impression that Susan and I quickly became a "couple" and that I was no longer as attracted to other women. This is only partly true. It is true that I have found that I like Susan better than any woman I have ever known and she seems to reciprocate the feelings. We do spend a lot of our free time together and both of us find fantastic pleasure in our carnal activities. But early on Susan discussed the situation with me and I have come to accept the customs which seem to be in place.

Even when a couple lives together as do Nate and Joan - and as I expect Susan and I will begin doing within a matter of days - even if they decide to become engaged to be married, even then no one expects outside liaisons to cease. As with the party last Eight Day, sexual activities with others are not only accepted, but actually expected and encouraged. Susan certainly didn't object to my time with the five women and I find I don't begrudge her activities with Nate. Coming here has somehow changed any conventional attitude I may have had about what constitutes fidelity. Once again, I ask myself "Where is the harm?" And once again I must answer, "There is none."

Since the party, even though Susan and I have slept together most nights, she has practically pushed me at a couple of different women and I played games with both Mai-quan and Jenny. I know Susan has had a couple of different lovers during the same time and I find that fact doesn't bother me at all. She has even mentioned that we should have Nate and Joan or the two nurses over for a night of fun and games, supposedly meaning everyone will participate. I think I am beginning to understand a new meaning for orgy, a meaning which places such things in a very attractive light rather than relegating them to the dark fringes of human activities.

March 7 (Five Day)

Today at lunchtime Susan and I joined Jenny, Deborah, Bob, and George for a picnic on the beach. By now I am used to everyone being nude and thought nothing about that; however, while we were swimming and playing in the water, I noticed Bob and George both move over beside Susan. I thought nothing of it until I suddenly heard a squeal immediately followed by laughter and giggles. I looked around to see Bob, with Susan draped over his shoulder, moving out of the water towards the blankets. George was moving right beside him, occasionally giving her tight bottom a quick caress. They set her down on the blanket and Bob began to suck and kiss her breasts even as George dropped between her legs and applied his mouth to her more private parts.

Of course I have taken part in such oral activities, even with Susan, but never en masse, so to speak. I must have been standing and staring because Jenny and Deborah, their arms around each other, suddenly stopped beside me. Jenny patted my bare behind and said, "Don't just stand there, Alex. Go on over and join them. She's got another tit, you know."

Two weeks ago suck language from a woman would have convinced me she was a real slut, but now I have come to find that I no longer think like that. It seems no more out of place in our group than it would have as pillow talk between lovers. Anyway as she said this, she slapped by bottom harder and gave me a push towards the trio. I don't even remember exactly what I said or did as I came up on them. I only remember that in another minute or so I was kneeling opposite Bob and joined him in lowering my head towards that lovely landscape. This was my first time to participate in anything of this nature with another male present. Even last Eight Day Nate was in another room with Susan while I was being ravished (quite willingly, I'll admit) by the five women. But, like most other things that have happened on this island, I find that the activity did not really embarrass me nor do I feel there was anything wrong with it. Before it was over, each of us had changed places, and all four were well satisfied.

Another surprise. Once when I withdrew my tongue to allow it to recover (another quickly took its place to keep Susan quite occupied) I suddenly wondered if Jenny and Deborah were still standing and watching us. I looked up and discovered they were no longer interested. In fact they were interested only in each other. I stared for half a minute at the sight of the two lovely women on another blanket ten feet away. Jenny was lying on her back and Deborah was lying face down on top of her, but in the opposite direction. Each had her mouth locked against the sex of the other woman. I knew that some women enjoyed such things, but this was my first time observing it. Also, compounding this revelation, was the fact that I knew from personal experience that both of the beauties also truly enjoyed activity with men.

I had never really realized that many women can become aroused with either (or both) sex. Later I asked Susan about this and she told me that many, if not most, of the women on the island liked play with others of their gender as well as with men. She even admitted she enjoyed such things herself. Now I keep becoming aroused at the idea of watching her with one of the nurses or maybe one of the native girls. Again, I am somewhat surprised I don't feel any pique or condemnation at the idea, only intense interest and curiosity. 

Susan has said that she will be going over to Trawa tomorrow to provide medical services for the natives there and asked if I would like to come along. Nate has urged me to do that and assured he can cover anything for me for a day. I'm a little apprehensive about the trip as I have never flown in an airplane before, but at the same time I am excited by the possibility. We are to leave early tomorrow morning.

March 8 (Six Day)

Today has really been a day of new experiences.

Susan had said she wanted to leave early so we arose before dawn, performed our absolutions, and ate a quick breakfast in the kitchen. When I had seen Susan arrive at the airstrip, she had been wearing pants and a leather flying jacket. As we were getting ready to leave today she said, "It can get a little cool once we get airborne, but today is probably going to be fairly warm. I'm going to skip the pants and wear a sarong. I'd suggest you wear a sarong and there are some leather jackets in the hanger. You can borrow one of those."

We made our way down to the hanger where two of the native men had already rolled the plane out from under the metal roof. Susan explained that the plane was a "Jenny," one of the trainers used in the hundreds and thousands during the war. It was a wood and fabric biplane affair with two seats, one behind the other. It looked very insubstantial and I was a little uncertain about allowing myself to be separated from the firm earth by such a flimsy contraption. But Susan obviously trusted her life to it and I was not about to back down now.

I followed Susan around the craft as she checked that certain parts were moving freely, looked at the level of petrol and oil in their tanks, and checked a number of other things which were totally incomprehensible to me. At last she was satisfied and we walked into the hanger building. Here she pulled a leather jacket from a peg on the wall and pointed out another one which I quickly donned. She retrieved a pair of short boots and located a similar pair for me along with two sets of leather flying helmets and goggles. Finally, outfitted in the strange costumes, we went back to the plane.

"You ride in the front," Susan directed and showed me where to climb and how to secure the wide safety belt holding me tightly to the seat. She then walked around the craft again, checking some more items, before climbing into the back cockpit. "The trip will just take twenty minutes or so," she said. "It may be a little hard to hear, but you can talk through the speaking tube if you shout."

I acknowledged this and then Susan turned and called something to one of the native men. He moved around to the front of the craft and slowly pulled the propeller through a couple of turns and then positioned it with one blade near the top of the arc. Susan did something behind me and then I heard her yell "Contact." I had seen planes start and take off a couple of times in France, so I wasn't totally surprised when the man swung his foot to gain momentum and pulled the propeller blade sharply down. The engine coughed and some blue smoke emerged. Susan called, "Switch off," and once again he moved the blade through a couple of revolutions and positioned it. Again Susan called, "Switch on. Contact." He repeated his motions and gave the blade a sharp downwards movement.

This time the engine fired and an incredibly loud roar filled the air as light smoke began to pour from the exhaust. The native had quickly moved back away from the spinning blade and now Susan must have made some adjustments, because the smoke disappeared and the engine settled into smoother operation.

For several minutes we sat there as the engine warmed and Susan did things I couldn't see (or probably understand) and then suddenly the craft began to move slowly forward. We moved to the end of the cleared strip and the plane turned to line up for take off. Again the engine changed tone once or twice and then rose in volume to a deafening calliope of sound and we started to roll forwards down the strip.

I'll admit my hands were locked tightly to the sides of the cockpit as I watched the trees roll by on my right and the sea on my left. The airplane bumped over rough places on the ground and then suddenly the bumps stopped. Then I noticed the trees seemed to be getting shorter and when I looked to the left, the ocean seemed more distant. Then my hands locked hard around the edge of the cockpit as the whole world suddenly tilted. I felt as though I was about to fall free of this moving vehicle and plummet to the hard earth below, but even as I absorbed this dreadful feeling, I realized I was still pressed firmly to my seat, as though gravity had changed its direction just for my safety and comfort. (Later Susan explained that while gravity had not altered, the centrifugal force of our turn had given that illusion and held me in place just as securely as if gravity had, indeed, changed.)

The craft seemed to right itself and I looked over the side to see waves breaking against a shore and tiny toy-like trees above a strip of white sand, all a far distance below me. A long distance and getting longer. We climbed some more and then made another couple of those turns which caused me to grab for an anchor though I remained firmly seated. Finally the plane leveled out and I watched in fascination as the buildings and forests where I had walked the past weeks began to fade behind me. Susan had pointed out the various instruments before we left and now I was able to make out that we were flying - flying! - about one thousand, five hundred feet above the blue Pacific. Ahead, a dark green area on the horizon became revealed as another island as each minute brought us closer.

I had begun to relax, feeling secure in the craft and in Susan's ability to control it, when the world tilted again and we began to descend. This time I only grabbed the edge of the cockpit for a few seconds before I made myself relax and sit straight in my seat as I watched the edge of the island rotate into my field of view. We made several turns, each time going to a lower altitude, until we were less than a hundred feet above the sea. As we flew level and in a straight line, Susan let the craft sink at a slow and steady rate until I could once more see trees directly to the side of the plane. I watched as the trees rose - my mind refused to believe I was falling instead - until I felt a sharp bump. This was followed by another bump, milder this time, and then we were on the ground slowing from what must have been an unbelievably fast speed.

We came to a stop and then the plane turned around and began to roll (slowly this time) to where a side road left the cleared beach strip. Susan pulled to a stop in this road and the roar of the engine died as she shut down things. At last there was silence. I twisted around in my seat and Susan asked, "Enjoy your first flight, Alex?"

In truth my mind was nearly overwhelmed. I had enjoyed the experience immensely. "Yes. I really loved it. I'll admit it took a little getting used to, but what hasn't lately."

"That's good to hear. Otherwise you might have a long swim back. What impressed you the most?"

I thought about this question for a half a minute. "At first I started to say seeing everything like toys, but do you know what really made the biggest impression? The trip was so fast. A boat would have taken us hours."

Susan laughed. "That's right. This is the coming thing, Alex. It won't be too long before planes begin to carry passengers from place to place, like boats and trains, only much, much more quickly. Flying will really come of age when it is no longer an extraordinary experience, but merely a convenience. Come on, let's go see the village."

We climbed from the craft and by now several people from the native village had appeared. Susan spoke to a couple of the men she apparently knew. They nodded and began to turn the plane around and then to tie it to some nearby trees as Susan and I, accompanied by a number of native people, made our way down a path through the forest.

We came out into a small open area populated with maybe fifty huts and one tin roofed building in a more Western style. Susan went directly to this building and opened the door. She explained that this was a clinic and that about once each week or so she would make a trip here to provide treatment to any villagers who might need it. I could see a number already beginning to line up at the door.

I should also note that the natives here were not nude. Nearly all - men and women alike - wore the ever present sarongs. There were also many children and adults much older than those at the plantation. In short, a complete cross section of a typical community. Susan and I had left our flying jackets with the plane and now she donned a white lab coat. She handed one to me and I shrugged into it. I have no idea where she found one large enough to fit my frame, but it did. For the next several hours I helped hand her items, run and fetch, and generally do whatever she needed as she treated a variety of boils, cuts, and scratches, although there were no serious injuries or sicknesses. When she finished treating all the patients, she spent another forty five minutes talking to several dozen villagers, trying to teach them the importance of washing any cuts or scratches and keeping them clean.

When Susan had completed her medical duties, she removed the lab coat and I handed her mine. This seemed to signal the end of official business to the villagers and many of them immediately became more animated, asking both Susan and myself a variety of questions. A number of them had a good knowledge of English, else I would have been left completely out of the conversions. We were invited to a meal and spent an hour sitting cross legged with a couple of dozen men and women while we ate several different native dishes. The main course seemed to be made from some kind of fish and what I believe to be breadfruit. I was a little surprised to discover that this was a rather delicious concoction.




Spice Plantation Ch. 05



At last Susan began to say goodbye to the villagers, many of whom she seemed to know very well and we made our way back to the aircraft. By now it was well into the afternoon and quite warm, although I expected it might become quite cool when we were airborne. We each put on the leather flying jackets and Susan went through her series of preflight checks. I was about to climb back into the front cockpit when she stopped me.

"Alex, I think I'd like to try something on the way back. It's been three years since I've done this, but I think you'll enjoy it. Why don't you climb into the back instead."

I was a little uncertain because I knew that the rear position was the pilot's. And I certainly was not going to be the pilot. But I nodded and placed myself in the rear seat. Susan made sure I snugged the safety belt tightly. I then expected her to get into the front, but she surprised me by starting to climb in the rear with me. "I'm going to sit on your lap," she announced.

Well, it was a fairly tight fit, but I'll admit her tight little bottom and legs did feel nice against me. She produced another wide leather belt and strapped it around the seat bottom and herself, providing a second safety belt. I probably looked confused and uncertain because Susan twisted her head around and said, "Don't worry about it, Alex. I can fly perfectly well from here and it will let us talk without having to shout quite so loud. We'll still have to yell, but it will be easier. And I'm going to show you a few acrobatics and this way I can make sure it's not too much for you. Maybe I'll even show you a really special maneuver."

She called to one of two native men who had remained to help her with the plane and soon he was pulling on the propeller and she was going through the same "Contact" routine as earlier. The engine caught and I could see that Susan was busy adjusting and testing things. In a couple of minutes she released the brakes and we began to roll forward, out to the end of the cleared strip. We lined up with the cleared area and Susan ran the engine up so it sounded like it was ready to fly apart on its own. Then we were rolling down the straight stretch of sand and before I realized it we were climbing and leaving the ground behind. Then came that first gut twisting turn, but this time it wasn't quite so bad. I let my hands tighten around Susan's waist and she didn't seem to mind. I also noted that as we climbed I enjoyed the feel of her firm buttocks being pressed down into my lap.

We climbed for awhile before leveling out and Susan pointed to the altimeter. We were higher than this morning, about three thousand feet. When I actually thought about it, what difference did that make. If I fell from three hundred feet the result would be the same as from three thousand. Then Susan turned her head towards me and shouted, "Let's try a few figure eights."

The world tilted until I was sitting nearly ninety degrees from where I should, my right side now parallel with the blue ocean far below. We continued to fly in this attitude, turning several times, until I suddenly realized we were describing giant sideways figure eights in the sky. When we leveled from that series of turns, Susan made a somewhat circular sign with her hand. I wasn't sure what she was trying to say until she began to pull back on the control stick and the nose of our craft pointed towards the sky. I watched as the world turned around me. Suddenly I was sitting with my head pointed downwards to the distant sea and my feet towards the heavens. My mind told me I should have been falling, but I was still pressed tightly into the seat and Susan was pressed just as tightly into my lap.

We continued our curve and I quickly realized that we were completing a loop. As we returned to straight and level flight I was startled to realize that the experience had not frightened me at all. Rather the opposite. I had found the entire thing extremely exhilarating.

For the next twenty minutes Susan flung the craft through a variety of maneuvers, including loops, stalls, and barrel rolls. I was pleased to see that I no longer feared flying at all and also that my stomach seemed to get along well with these violent turns and swings. Susan also loved it. I could see that in her manner and movements and when she turned towards me, in the broad smile on her lovely face.

I was also becoming aware of another effect of the intense acrobatics. I was finding myself becoming sexually aroused. I'm sure that the incredible excitement of the new experience had a lot to do with it, but the fact that a lovely woman - a lovely woman with whom I had made love many times - was sitting on my lap, her bare legs occasionally brushing against mine, and the knowledge that she wore nothing beneath that leather jacket, probably had quite a bit of influence as well. I had been letting my hands clasp around her waist, not so much for support as for the warm feeling that action entailed. Now I let them slip under the edge of her jacket and clasp the bare skin beneath.

Susan responded by leaning back and rubbing her back against my chest, and moving her legs against my own. My hands rose and cupped her breasts, finding her large nipples rock hard. She was also aroused.

Susan twisted her head around to me and let her mouth approach mine. I leaned forward and we met in a hard French kiss, all the while hurtling through the sky, wind blowing across our faces and swirling around our bare legs. As we broke the kiss, Susan said something in a breathless fashion, but the wind noise was sufficient to overwhelm and obscure it completely. I responded with a "What?"

This time she raised her voice sufficiently so I could hear her, but for a second I still doubted I had heard correctly. "Pull up these sarongs, Alex. I want to feel you inside me."

Susan left no doubt as to what she had requested because she loosened her safety belt. Not enough to let her slip free, but enough to allow her to raise her hips a couple of inches, which she did while flying the plane with one hand and using the other to pull the cloth of her own sarong enough to bunch it above her waist. I kept my left hand on her breast, but used my right to bare my own thighs.

The wind at this altitude was chilly, but Susan's flesh felt burning hot on my own. And my rigid member must have felt equally hot to her as it pressed upwards along the crease between her legs. I started to try to wiggle to a position where I could penetrate her when she suddenly said, "Wait just a minute, Alex. I must do something."

I stopped my movement and seconds later Susan pulled back on the control stick and the craft began to once more climb towards the heavens. For minutes we rose sunwards and then Susan eased the stick forward and we leveled out again. I wasn't sure why she had wanted to climb. Perhaps to allow a little more margin of safety before we attempted our unusual coupling? Whatever the reason she seemed satisfied and reached a long finger forwards to tap the altimeter and said, "Now, Alex." I glanced at the instrument which read about five thousand, three hundred feet, and I must admit it wasn't until quite a bit later that the significance dawned on me.

Then I was much more interested in the warm and wiggling girl on my lap and when the head of my glans touched her opening I found her not only aroused, but practically flooding. A couple of twists and wiggles and I slid deeply inside her. Susan still had her safety belt slightly loosened so she could rise and fall a little. I, on the other hand, was tightly strapped to the seat and my freedom of movement was much more severely restricted.

Susan bounced up and down a couple of times and, while I, holding my left hand tightly around her breast, stroking and squeezing her nipple, began to let my right hand traverse the path from her right breast, down along her flat stomach, over the bunched material of her sarong, and on down to the hard nub, now exposed, between the lips of her sex.

Susan was obviously very aroused and stimulated by our activity, but her hands were steady on the controls of the airplane. How could she concentrate so well on two such disparate activities? But she did. The plane flew smoothly until suddenly I felt the nose rise and we began a slight climb. The movement pressed Susan down harder on my lap, further impaling her on my rod. Then the nose of the craft fell and we began a shallow dive, resulting in an upward force lifting Susan slightly. I realized she was doing this deliberately. We continued through a long series of alternate climbs and dives, forcing my member to move in and out, or rather forcing Susan to spear herself more deeply and then rise slightly.

We were both becoming more and more excited. In addition to the thrill of the unique location and the mechanical movement provided by Susan's piloting, the not inconsiderable vibration of the engine was producing sensations unlike any I had ever felt. I began to feel myself approaching that wonderful point of no return when suddenly one of the climbs steepened and we were again clawing upwards towards the heavens. I could sense Susan's rising excitement in the feel of her tight muscles around my tool, but her flying remained controlled and steady.

We were at a nearly vertical attitude and still driving upwards when I began to feel the first rhythmic contractions begin low in my swollen gonads. Then we were arching backwards, heads beginning to point towards the sea and the force of our cresting the loop pushed us upwards, me harder into the seat and Susan harder onto my swollen spike. I began to spurt in a series of hard movements, more intense than any I can remember. At my first ejaculation, Susan began her own contractions, her head thrown back against my shoulder, her mouth wide in a loud cry I could hear even over the engine's shrill scream.

We both climaxed and I, at least, was nearly beyond awareness of anything else, but when I began to regain my senses I noticed that we were smoothly sliding down the back side of the loop, Susan's touch on the controls as sure and smooth as ever.

We continued to fly level for a couple of minutes while we regained our breath and I began to shrink inside her. At last I felt myself pull free. Susan gave a slight sliver and once more twisted around to kiss me. After that kiss she began a slow descent and before much longer we were skimming along a hundred feet above the waves as I saw the plantation with is open airstrip coming up to meet us.

By the time we landed and taxied to the hanger, we had recovered and when we climbed out of the cockpit - what an apt name, now - no one watching would have guessed our activities of a short time previously.

Susan shut down the engine and two of the native men began to secure the plane. We climbed out and deposited our jackets and boots in the hanger before starting the walk back towards the main buildings.

Susan leaned over and kissed me. "Welcome to the club," she said.

I looked a little blank. "What club?" I responded with brilliant wit.

Susan laughed like water falling over a rocky stream. "The Mile High Club, Silly," she said.

I still looked blank and then suddenly the significance of the altimeter reading reached my sluggish brain. "There is such a thing?" I asked stupidly.

Again Susan laughed. "Yes, there really is. Even something as new as flying develops its own traditions very rapidly. I wouldn't even be surprised if one of the Wright brothers started it. But anyway it was well known when I learned to fly."

"I take it you were already a member," I replied, surprised to find that the idea that this hadn't been her first time didn't really bother me at all.

"Well, yes. Only the first time I did it, I had to climb from the front seat back into my instructor's lap." Then she stopped for a second. "Don't get the idea I have done this a lot, Alex. Actually, this was just my third time. But it was definitely the best, by a long shot."

I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. "I'm glad. Maybe sometime we'll have to try to improve even that." Her reply was another deep kiss.

---------------------------------

I put down the book and Judy rolled up on one elbow. "Paul, this is unbelievable! I really wish I had known your aunt and uncle. They sound like two of the most 'alive' people I have ever heard of."

"They always were, even at the age when I knew them. I can only guess what they were like when they were young, although the journal is giving me a pretty good idea."

"Oh? And just what idea is that?" Judy teased.

"I meant a pretty good idea of what they were like. But now that you mention it, I can probably think of a couple of good ideas myself." I leaned over and stretched Judy out on her back, pulling her wrists over her head with my right hand. I lowered my mouth to her nipples and felt them harden instantly as my lips and tongue began to explore. Judy is the hottest woman I have ever known. She would have fit right in on the plantation island.

We played for a little while and then I asked, "Want to go downstairs?"

"I'd love to, Paul. But I think I'm still a little too sore for much right now." She stopped for a second and then a new look came into her eyes. "Suppose we go downstairs and you can be my victim instead?"

I raised up, still holding her wrists to the floor above her head, and looked down at her lovely, naked form. As I have said, Judy is generally the victim in our games, but we do switch off some. "I could go for that," I answered. "After all, I've been doing all the work so far. Not only all that reading, but also torturing you. Maybe it's time you had to work a little."

Judy stuck her tongue out at me. "That's going to cost you, Lover. OK. Hit the bathroom while you still can.

We made out way back down to the dungeon and Judy wasted no time in getting cuffs snugly fastened around my wrists and ankles. "I think we'll start with something simple," she said. "After all, simple is often best."

She placed me facing a round, padded, horizontal rail we had supported about thirty inches above the floor. Spreading my legs, she attached my ankle cuffs to a bar, holding them nearly two feet apart. Then she bent me forwards across the rail and clipped my wrist cuffs to the ones on my ankles. This, of course, left my ass clearly displayed and available.

Judy ran her hands over my bare flanks and down the sides of my thighs. She continued to play with me in this fashion for several minutes until my rod was sticking our in rigid excitement and my breath was beginning to come in quick gasps. She finished her attentions by running her hands up the insides of my spread legs and dragging one finger up my crack and across the sensitive skin of my exposed anus.

Her hot hands left my quivering body and I strained to try to see what she was doing. To do this I had to look back between my own spread legs and I saw an inverted picture of her long legs and tight ass as she walked over to a cabinet against the wall. I couldn't see what she retrieved from the cabinet, but the view of her retreating backside, even upside down, was worth the contortions, . A minute later I discovered what she had picked up as the flat surface of a smooth wood paddle slammed into my rear, eliciting a sharp yelp.

Judy toyed with me for nearly two minutes while delivering only a half dozen swats. These stung but I quickly realized they were not meant to cause a lot of anguish, but rather merely to warm me for more severe treatment to come. After the sixth stroke, Judy put down the paddle and picked up another object. She moved around in front of me and showed it to me. As I strained to arch my head far enough back to view her possession, I realized I was in for a rather painful session. Judy was holding what we call our "Swiss cheese paddle". This is a frat type paddle, three inches by eighteen, smoothed and varnished hardwood, a half inch or so thick. But unlike the school paddles available in the bookstore as decorations, this one had its surface covered with half inch holes. I knew from experience that this device would hurt like hell as the holes ventilated the paddle and prevented the cushion of air which forms with a smooth paddle. Additionally, each hole would provide its circular edge as a contact point. Yes, this would definitely hurt more than the other paddle. My cock stuck out even more in anticipation.

I wasn't disappointed. Judy struck the first stroke and I couldn't hold back a sharp cry. Neither could I hold back on the next. Or on any of the dozen or so which followed. It may seem strange to the uninitiated that a painful spanking can stimulate one sexually. But it is a truth many have discovered. There is a close relationship between sexual stimulation and pain, at least as long as the pain is restrained short of the point where it begins to dominate everything else. We were always careful not to pass this point, and both Judy and I had found that this form of "stimulation" did a lot to increase the intensity of our orgasms when they finally came. Now I could feel myself almost more aroused than I could stand, desperately waiting the release I needed so badly. I could tell that Judy was also getting more excited as her breathing began to come in shorter and more shallow gasps. Once as I looked back between my legs, I saw her left hand on her own crotch, furiously rubbing even as she swung the stinging paddle towards my defenseless bottom.

Suddenly the spanking stopped and I could clearly hear Judy's cry as she started her own climax. But she left me hanging, unable to come. I strained against my bonds, but to no avail, as she cried out several times, each time with more intensity, and then as she calmed and her breathing began to slow slightly.

To say I was frustrated would be an incredible understatement. I begged Judy for some relief, but she only answered, "Not yet, Lover. You have a long way to go yet." I groaned and resigned myself to a long, tortuous session.

In a couple of minutes Judy began to release my wrists and ankles, but as soon as I had stretched, she led me over to where there were two chains hanging from the joists above my head. Soon my arms were spread widely above my head, anchored to the chains, and Judy was pulling my ankles far apart and attaching them to rings in the floor. I was left stretched in a tight X shape between ceiling and floor, my rock hard cock still pointing straight out and my balls aching to explode.

Judy helped them in that direction my using her long fingers to just slightly brush against their undersides and across the super sensitive skin between them and my anus. Then she moved away behind me and soon returned with something I couldn't see. I heard the sounds of her adjusting something and then I felt her finger, cool and slick with lubricant, press against the stretched opening of my anus. As her tapering digit slipped inside I groaned again. Judy twisted around and worked the finger in and out, spreading the slick substance all around. I now knew I was going to be penetrated, but not with what.

The finger withdrew and in seconds the slick, plastic tip of a long, tapered dildo touched my rear opening. The dildo seemed to be attached to something and I guessed it was mounted on one of the adjustable stands, not unlike chemistry ring stands, which we have in the playroom. It seemed to go deeper than I thought possible and soon I was straining up on my toes for relief.

Judy left me like that and moved around in front of me. She slid her hands across my chest, pinching and rubbing at my nipples as she let her tongue tease and torment my lips and neck. Occasionally she would let a hand drop and stroke my tormented member, but never enough to bring relief.

She pressed her bare breasts against my chest for a few seconds and I could feel her nipples, rock hard, seem to drag burning lines across my skin. Then I suddenly felt a sharp pain at my right nipple as she let a small clamp snap closed over the hard nub. This clamp was not smooth, but rather serrated, like the small electrical clips I frequently saw around the Electrical Engineering labs. The first was followed by a second clamp on my left nipple. She added two small lead weights, further tightening the hold of the clamps and bringing additional pain to my unbelievably aroused body.




Spice Plantation Ch. 05



But Judy wasn't quite done. She took a short length of quarter inch wide velvet ribbon and made a small slip knot, not unlike a noose, in one end. This she looped around my swollen balls and snugged tight around the aching spheres before tying a weight which must have been nearly a pound to the other end. As she lowered the weight and I felt its pull on my swollen testicles, still another groan escaped my lips. Judy stood and again kissed me, running her hot tongue around my mouth and neck. She touched a switch and the dildo buried in my rear began to vibrate.

She continued to stroke and tease me for a good fifteen or twenty minutes. The intensity of all of this "torture" was already about to drive me nuts and Judy's continual sexual teasing did nothing to relieve my condition. But she wasn't content to let it go at even this. Suddenly she stepped back and picked up a cat. She held it up in front of me so I could see the sinuous strands of the leather tails before she began to swing it at my bound body.

Judy and I are not into real pain and torture, but sometimes we do play fairly rough. Now each stoke of the whip left its nine stinging trails across my skin and most elicited a cry or squeal. She whipped my ass especially well, but did not limit herself, delivering blows to almost every part of my body. This went on for a long time. I was straining against my bonds, tears often filled my eyes, and I jerked hard at nearly every stroke, but I never even thought of using a safework. I was aroused more than I could ever remember and each lash, although it often hurt like hell, brought me higher.

Finally Judy stopped the whipping and moved behind me. Suddenly the vibrating shaft embedded in my rear jumped to a new and more intense level of stimulation as she turned it to a higher setting. Then she was kneeling in front of me, her wet mouth engulfing the head of my rampant cock, hot tongue swirling into the tip and around the swollen head. Her hands roamed my tortured skin, stroking across hot lines left by the whip and into seemingly every sensitive crease I possessed. I strained on my toes in response to both the vibrating shaft penetrating my rectum and to Judy's incredibly erotic activities until I could no longer hold back and began to spurt jet after jet of my pent up fluids into her hot and sucking mouth.

When it was over Judy lowered the stand and I relaxed my feet back flat on the floor while she removed first the clamps and then my bonds.

We hugged and kissed deeply and I said, "That was incredible! I don't think I could handle much more - especially now - but sometime I'd like to do it again."

Judy smiled and whispered into my ear as her tongue slid around inside its edge, "I loved it too, Stud. But I'm not quite done with you yet." I started to protest and she added, "Don't worry, not quite so intense."

She led me over to the padded bench and soon I was at its end, ankles spread and fastened, and bent forwards along the length of soft leather. Then Judy began to lightly stoke my sides. I began to squirm but she merely intensified her attack and soon I was laughing uncontrollably as she continued to tickle me. Judy would lightly touch me, her fingers just barely brushing the skin, in all my most sensitive places - except my cock which was now once again rigid and swollen. When I was laughing so hard I could hardly breathe, she would relent and her attack would slacken until I caught my breath. She mixed this tickling with sexy caresses using fingers, tongue and her hard nipples. The feel of her hot, wet tongue moving from the top of my ass crack up my back and down my flank nearly drove me mad again. Then those sharp, white teeth would nip at my thigh or buttock and a tapered finger would move from the back of my balls up to my distended anus.

Judy continued this treatment for a half hour and I was nearly crying in frustration. Then she stopped and moved over to the wall again for a minute. From my bound position I couldn't see what she was doing or getting and when she moved back behind me I trembled in anticipation. A soft suede flogger slapped my ass and then my back. The blows were not really hard enough to hurt much, but on top of the stimulation I had been receiving served to arouse me even more.

Judy delivered a dozen strokes and then I suddenly felt the end of what I took to be another dildo against my stretched anus. This pressed inwards, its surface well lubricated even though my rear passage was still slick from our earlier activity. The dildo seemed to press inwards forever and just when I thought I couldn't take any more I felt Judy's long, bare legs press against my own. Her hips pressed my hot buttocks and I suddenly realized she was using a strap on to ream my rear passage.

As I have said, Judy and I have found we like anal sex, at least when she is on the receiving end. We have played with anal dildos, Judy using one to ravish my rear, and both of us have enjoyed the sensations. But never before had she used a strap on tool and the feel of her pressing her body forwards against my own as the shaft embedded itself farther inside me was incredible. I instantly decided I loved being the one fucked - at least by this beautiful and sexy creature.

After several slow in and out strokes Judy murmured, "Enjoying this, Lover?"

"More than I would have ever imagined," I answered enthusiastically. "Do you like it?"

"I've always wondered what it would be like to be on this end of a fuck. It's even better than I imagined. I'm glad you like it." Then we quit talking as Judy increased the speed of her strokes and soon I was shooting my load onto the floor as Judy arched hard against me. I could even feel her contractions transmitted through the plastic cock as she reached her own climax.

Afterwards, Judy released me and we headed to the shower where we spent a long time kissing, hugging, and washing each other under the stream of warm water. At last we dried off - but didn't dress - and went upstairs to find some lunch to bring back to the bedroom where I once again built up the fire.



Spice Plantation Ch. 06



Judy and I ate lunch reclining on the rug in front of the fire. About one thirty, as we were finishing the food, I heard the sound of a large truck or other vehicle outside and we both made our way over to the window. I pulled back the curtain part way so we could see what was happening. We had stopped slightly back from the window since we were both completely naked and we couldn't tell from the sound exactly where the truck was. However, a quick glance showed that it was a snow plow just starting on the far end of my road. The wind was completely still and the sky was a pure, cloudless blue with the sun reflecting blindingly from the white surface which seemed to cover the entire world.

After a few seconds I dropped the curtain. "Looks like they'll have the road cleared in an hour or so," I commented.

Judy moved beside me and pressed her bare breast against my side. "Planning on going somewhere?" she asked.

"Not really. Are you?" I asked.

"Well, like you said the other day, I have been thinking about coming a lot, but the only place I'm interested in going is back to the South Pacific to hear more about your aunt and uncle," Judy said, as she pressed herself against me and let her fingers trail down my chest and across my cock.

I shivered and began to harden in response. "I'll read some more to you," I answered, "but I won't be able to concentrate if you keep that up."

"You're the one who needs to keep it up," she shot back. "OK. Why don't you keep me out of trouble and tie me to the lounge again?"

I smiled and kissed her. "Like that, don't you?" I murmured. "Well, I do, too. Come on, Wench. Onto the lounge."

With our arms around each other we moved back over near the fireplace. I pulled the double wide lounge in front of the flames and picked up Judy's wrist and ankle cuffs which were lying on the floor. Soon I had them fastened snugly around her and was loosely fastening her, partly reclining, on her back. When she was comfortable I spent a couple of minutes teasing her body and then I picked up the old journal and began reading where we had left off.

---------------------------------------------------------------

March 9 (Seven Day)

Today was the second Seven Day I have been here and, as such, was also the second punishment session. This time I was not nearly so apprehensive as the first time since I realized the punishments were a kind of game and did no real harm to the victims or to anyone else.

After the work day ended, I walked with Susan to the punishment hut off the trail to the native living area. Today there were two men and two women, none of whom I knew by name. The workers were already assembled, acting like a festival was starting, and the two mechanics, Bob and George, were already standing near the two bound women, ready to watch. Susan and I went over to them and exchanged greetings.

I looked around and asked, "Where are Nate and Joan and our two nurses?"

Bob answered, "I'm not sure about Nate and Joan, but I think the two girls are inside getting ready. They're dishing it out today."

I hadn't really thought about who would be doing the punishing. I suppose I just assumed Nate and Joan would again, but I had been told that staff switched off. Suddenly the idea that I might sometime be the one swinging the whip made its way into my head and I felt a surprising wave of arousal at the concept. I have definitely changed in the last ten days! Of course, last time I didn't really grasp the idea that this was all a sexy game, but now I truly believed the four "victims" were here by choice.

Just then I saw the missing couple start towards us. Like last time, the staff were all dressed in sarongs and the workers were, of course, completely naked. As we were saying hello to Nate and Joan, the two nurses emerged from the hut. Each wore a very short sarong which came only down to the middle of their thighs and each was holding several different whips. They moved over to where the four bound victims were being watched by two strong native men and exchanged comments with everyone. There were some laughs, even if a couple of them from the bound quartet seemed a little nervous. Jenny said something to the two helpers and they began to move the four over to some horizontal bars. These bars were a good eight or nine feet off the ground, but there were four small step ladders below them. The victims had their hands unbound, but large leather cuffs were soon around their wrists instead.

One of the helpers pointed and the two men climbed the two steps of the ladders. The helpers used other ladders and soon had each man bound with his wrist cuffs attached to short chains on the overhead bar, He was left standing on his ladder, hands pulled above his head and spread about a foot and a half apart. The helpers then moved over and soon the two girls were in a similar position, standing on their own ladders below the second bar.

The two male helpers nodded and Jenny and Deborah moved forward to stand by the men. Each had a cat with two foot lashes. Jenny turned to the watching throng and repeated their offenses. Then she said, "Each will be warmed by the cat and will then receive eighteen strokes."

I leaned over to Susan and whispered, "Are they going to be punished differently than last time?"

Susan leaned back and replied, "Probably. Part of the game is that the victims never know exactly what the punishment will be or exactly how it will be administered. The persons administering the punishments decide, usually right before. It looks like this time they will be hung for a whipping."

I wasn't sure exactly what she meant, but before I could ask, Deborah and Jenny each moved up and pulled the short step ladders out from under the men. This left them each hanging by his wrists, his feet dangling a foot above the ground. The two helpers immediately moved forward and quickly fastened cuffs around the victims' ankles and attached a short rod, spreading their feet about two feet apart.

Both victims were fairly husky and muscled young men and I could see that their weight must place quite a strain on their arms. "Isn't that a little rough, making them hang by their arms? How long will they have to hang there, anyway?"

Susan answered, "Actually the cuffs spread the strain quite a bit. They're made so the blood isn't cut off and to be sure, Jen and Deb will keep a close eye out for that. They are nurses, after all. As for how long. Usually they're left for about a half hour while being punished and then later bound on display."

A half hour! That sounded like a lot, but I had to assume everyone knew what they were doing. Jenny and Deborah began to lash the two hanging men. Like the last time, most of the blows were on their buttocks, which could soon be seen turning a shade of red. Their arousal could also be seen as their members began to stand half erect. Occasionally, an especially sharp blow would cause the man to jerk, but, hanging as he was, the only result was the sudden contraction of muscles and a little swinging motion.

They spread the blows around a little, lashing thighs, backs and chests. After a couple of dozen lashes, the girls stopped. They put down the cats and picked up single tailed whips, ones with handles a little over a foot long and a tail of nearly a yard and a half.

The first two strokes landed nearly together as both of the girls struck at the open and exposed buttocks. The men both cried out and seemed to go through a series of contortions causing them to swing in small, uneven circles.

After thirty seconds or so, the blows were repeated with similar results. The two nurses continued to wait between a half minute and a minute and a half between lashes. The interval must have allowed the initial pain to subside and at the same time made the flesh more sensitive to subsequent lashes.

Eight lashes to each man and the whipping stopped for two minutes or so while the victims dangled and turned slightly in the air. Both had their tools rigid by now and both were the object of many comments from the crowd of naked onlookers, especially the female ones. Then the two girls approached again, this time each bearing a long riding crop. They swished these back and forth several times, bringing cringes from the men and laughs from the admiring female audience. Then the first stripe landed across the lower part of a pair of bare buttocks. The man could not contain himself and let loose a yowl as a bright line appeared across his already darkened flesh.

Each girl delivered six strokes: one to the front of the thighs, one to the chest, the leather loop snapping against a nipple, and four across the buttocks. And each left its fine line and also left a sharp cry hanging in the air. At last the two women laid down the crops and once more picked up the two single tailed whips. They waited several minutes for the men to calm. Both of the hanging men were covered with a slight sheen of sweat and both looked strained from hanging by their wrists.

Finally Jen and Deborah began to deliver the last four strokes to each victim. Once, probably by design rather than accident, each managed to make a stroke land in the crack between the buttocks and the small end of the whip curl up between the cheeks, ending its painful journey on the strip of sensitive flesh between each man's testicles and his anus. These strokes obviously hurt more than the others and each resulted in a scream from the recipient.

When the last lash had landed the men were left hanging and Jen and Deb moved over to the two women and removed the ladders supporting them. The helpers quickly spread and anchored their legs as had been done to the men and the two women were left dangling above the ground. Deborah announced that they would be warmed and left hanging for their punishment and that each had chosen to receive twelve strokes and then be quay-ri. The strokes of the cat began and soon both pairs of firm cheeks were turning red along with some other areas, such as stomach and even breasts.

After several minutes the girls switched to the riding crops and delivered six blows, generally to the buttocks, but including one directly across the tops of the victims' breasts. Each stroke produced a sharp cry or scream and left a clear line. Like with the men, these blows were spaced out with a minute or more between each. After the six, the nurses once more picked up the single tailed whips. Both of the hanging women stared at the whips with both anticipation and apprehension showing on their faces. The first strokes clearly defined what was to come as they left sharp lines across each set of firms cheeks and elicited screams from the two bound women. As with the men, each girl received one stroke to a particularly sensitive area, although one was to a breast and nipple and the other had the tail snap between her legs on the same sensitive area as the men had had abused.

At last the whippings were over. The four victims looked like they were more than a little aroused from the ordeal and the audience also seemed aroused to a high state. Jenny announced that the four would remain hanging for another fifteen minutes while everyone was free to feel them up and then the men would be placed on display and the women made quay-ri. But instead of just letting the victims hang, the two girls moved around and attached - I had to look twice to be sure - attached a clothes pin to each nipple of both the men and women. These were the newer spring loaded pins, not the older single piece split wooden ones. From their faces it appeared that this treatment of sensitive flesh must have hurt a fair amount.

At the end of the time, the helpers and the two nurses replaced the step ladders and soon had the four released from the bars.

However, the punishment session was not yet over. Each of the four was led over to a padded bench arrangement. These were narrow benches, about eight inches wide, and set two feet off the ground. The surface was curved along the entire six foot length of each, and rounded on the sides to give the appearance of a padded log or pole rather than a flat bench. Each "victim" was placed on a bench on his or her back, face up. Legs were bent at the knee and bound under the benches. Arms were also stretched beneath and bound. This left the four face up with almost no freedom of movement, their genitals fully exposed and available.

I should comment about what seemed to be allowed the audience. It seems that during punishment sessions the men are always "on display" and the women are given a choice between being on display or quay-ri with a lessening of the punishment. I have been told that the women almost always choose quay-ri: sex is what they want and often, I have been informed, they may later be overheard boasting of how many men had them. Men, however, are not given that option, but being "on display" means they may be touched and teased, but are not allowed to climax. I can imagine this is both a wonderful and awful form of torture.

When the four were securely bound, the nurses announced that quay-ri could begin and soon all four were fully occupied. I could see a number of the native women teasing the two men, touching them with fingers, tongues, and sometimes rubbing a breast or bare leg against them. The two women were indeed being taken by two men and two others stood by each girl's head, holding their stiff rods for the attention of the two feminine tongues.

Susan pressed herself against my side and I could feel her hard nipple almost burning into my skin as it slid across the side of my chest. "I see you find this interesting," she said as she let her hand grasp my stiff member through the thin material of my sarong. "Why don't you go up and sample one of those sweet morsels."

I placed my right arm around her and let my fingers caress her right nipple. "If you don't object, I'd rather sample a different pleasure." I fanned my fingers across her hard nub and moved my left hand to cup her left breast.

She sucked in her breath. "I don't object at all, Alex. Let's go somewhere else."

We decided to go up the trail we had taken that first time to where we could overlook the beach from high above. We picked up some sandwiches for supper and a blanket and put on our shoes and soon were climbing the trail. The sun was still well up when we arrived at the flat space overlooking the shore. If we listened carefully we could hear the party-like sounds from the workers as the punishment session ended and turned into a general festival. But for the most part we were alone with the sea breeze and insect sounds and the crash of the surf far below. Susan and I spent a long hour in slow, but enthusiastic love making. Afterwards, we lay together, not bothering to put on any clothing, and let the breeze cool our hot skin. We talked a lot and I started to realize I was becoming very fond of Susan in more ways than just as a wonderful sexual partner. I'm still a little mixed up on this, but I think I'm really beginning to fall in love with her. I didn't say anything to her then, and I probably won't for some time until I'm sure of my own feelings and that she feels something similar, but I am now keenly aware that I'm looking at her a lot more seriously.

Eventually we ate our supper and than once again made love. But this time as we started, Susan stretched her hands above her head and said, "Tie me, Alex."

I froze above her and looked down at her lovely body. She again said, "Tie me up, Alex. At least tie my hands."

Slowly I asked, "You really want that?"

"Don't let it shock you so, Alex," she relied. "Of course I want it. I like these games, too. I trust you and being helpless can really excite. You can even spank my bottom if you like."

My breath caught in my throat. The picture presented by Susan's words immediately turned my tool more rigid than I thought possible and the idea of her stretched, naked and helpless, and wanting me to spank and then make love to her brought a swirling vision that nearly blocked the real world for several seconds. At last I tried to speak, but only a dry squeak emerged. I swallowed and cleared my throat and cleverly managed to respond with, "With what?"

Susan laughed, the sound of it like sparkling water in a clear brook. "Look in the knapsack. I put some rope in there."

Sure enough there were several lengths of soft cotton rope and in almost a daze I bound her hands together and pulled them above her head where I tied them to a small sapling. Then I straddled her hips and began to lightly tease her bound body paying particular attention to her breasts with their rock hard nipples. Susan's reactions showed she was loving it. I added my tongue to the action and soon she was moaning and straining against the ropes in unbridled arousal.

I suddenly stopped and she gave out an anguished groan of frustration. I rolled her over onto her stomach and began to let my hand slide gently up and down the inside of her legs and around her taut buttocks, my fingers moving inside her crack and touching her most intimate openings. Her arousal once again asserted itself and she began to twist and try to arch her delectable bottom higher with each touch. Suddenly I accepted her offer and brought my open palm down hard against her bare cheeks. Susan cried out at the blow but made no attempt to dissuade me. Far from it. Instead the cry was followed by a moan of pleasure and arousal and she arched her bottom higher for another stroke. I began to give her what she so apparently wanted, landing repeated slaps across her bare flesh, turning it a bright pink.

As I spanked this lovely woman I was astounded by my own feelings. I had already come to grips with the fact that the idea of a helpless and bound woman, receiving punishment - not severe punishment, of course - but being punished in a way she enjoyed - I had accepted that this did, indeed, excite me and Susan herself had convinced me that this was quite a normal reaction. However, the actuality of delivering that self same punishment to an aroused and willing victim was having an effect beyond anything I had ever imagined. As I heard and felt the slap of my hand against the firm bare flesh, watched the once lightly tanned area turn a bright pink and slowly become even more red, and felt the struggles of the beautiful bound and helpless creature as she twisted and squirmed beneath my hand, I felt myself became more aroused than I would have imagined possible.

Finally I could take it no longer. I ceased the spanking and knelt with my knees between her spread legs. I leaned forward and let the head of my member touch her opening, finding it soaked and dripping. Then I lost any form of control and plunged full length inside this wonderful woman. Susan cried out as I slid into her and I felt her internal muscles begin to clamp hard around my shaft, trying to hold me inside as I began to move out and back in. I drove hard into her, letting my weight crush her bound body against the blanket, holding myself as deeply as possible inside, and then slowly pulling out to repeat the entire sequence.

I'll admit my mind was a blur and I was lost to the outside world, but once, when I pulled back a little too far and my tool came all the way out, my mind did register Susan saying, "In my other hole, Alex. Take me there."

Now I have heard of men using women as some men use other men, but I had never done such a thing myself with either gender. In fact I had never seriously even considered the practice. However, I guess neither had I really been repulsed by the idea. Probably I had never given it enough thought to really have a feeling about it. And right then I was not in shape to give anything a longer, considered examination. Instead I responded almost without thinking and let the head of my shaft touch Susan's nether opening. The touch was electric! I began to press forwards and the head of my tool, slick with Susan's juices, began to force her opening wider and wider. Susan moaned and managed to say, "Go slowly, Alex. Go slowly, but don't stop. Please don't stop."




Spice Plantation Ch. 06



My mind was in a kind of haze but her words somehow penetrated and I restrained myself from driving forwards as hard as I could. I'm sure it was all for the better that way - for me as well as for Susan. As my instrument slid slowly into her rear tunnel, I felt her warmth engulf me, her muscles gripping me more tightly than I would have dreamed possible and with a corresponding feeling of pleasure I could never have imagined. I pressed slowly forwards as my length began to disappear inch by inch into her wonderful bottom. Susan writhed and twisted, arching against me, pressing herself backwards in an effort to aid her impalement. Neither of us was silent, our moans and gasps filling the air.

At last I was embedded as deeply as my shaft would allow and I held myself there, pressing against her firm flesh, still hot from the spanking. Then I slowly began to withdraw. The slide out was as wonderful as the reverse had been and when I neared the limit I again changed and began to press inwards once more, encouraged by explicit demands from Susan that I do exactly that. Before too long We were driving back and forth against each other, her strong muscles producing a feeling of pleasure unlike anything I had ever experienced. After a few minutes - or a few hours? - of this I could wait no longer and fortunately neither could Susan. I shoved myself in to the hilt and grabbed her hips, pulling her back tightly against my groin. Even as I began to spurt my juices into her bowels, Susan cried out and began to wildly convulse in climax. I held tightly to her, keeping myself embedded as deeply as possible, so her actions primarily resulted in even more intense stimulation to the both of us.

At last we began to calm and I relaxed my grip on her body. Susan lay still on the blanket, her hands still bound in front of her, but as I began to pull back slightly I felt her muscles give an involuntary squeeze, attempting to hold me within. Then she let her ring relax and the feeling as my now super sensitive tool slid past her muscles and emerged once again into the real world left me shuddering.

I untied her hands and we lay together, our hands lightly caressing each other, and let our breathing return to normal. At last Susan turned to me and kissed me. "That was wonderful, Alex."

I stammered something in reply and then asked, "You really like it?" She nodded and I continued. "You don't think it's perverted or something? And it's not really dangerous?"

Susan let her hand lightly touch my face. "No, Alex, there's nothing wrong with it. Where is the harm?" I had to admit I couldn't actually think of any. She went on, "It must be done carefully to prevent injury, let the body adapt to the intrusion, but otherwise there's no danger. Of course, you need to wash before we do anything else to prevent any infection. You should probably take the cloth from the pack and do that now. But as long as we're careful there's no danger and the sensations it produces are rather incredible, aren't they?"

I nodded dumbly and finally said, "I never imagined anything could be like that. You're a doctor so if you say there's no danger, I believe it. I'll admit I've never done anything like that before. In fact, I've never really thought about it. But it was unbelievable. I would not be adverse to trying it again sometime."

Susan laughed, the sound like tinkling water once more. "I'm sure we will. We can't too often or I might get a little sore, but don't be afraid to suggest it." Susan took the cloth from my hand and finished washing my member.

Susan and I stayed in our spot all night. We made love several more times, falling asleep for periods and awakening again filled with lust. When I awoke once I found that the sun had risen and was well above the horizon. We made love a final time and then, almost reluctantly, made our way back down the trail where we shared a shower - Have I ever changed in the last few weeks! Sharing a shower with a woman in a communal bathhouse. Then we headed to the kitchen to find some breakfast before catching a couple of more hours sleep.

March 10 (Eight Day)

After lunch Susan and I went down to the beach area we use for swimming. We found Nate and Joan and the two nurses already there and joined them. Over the new few hours we all spent time swimming, lying on blankets in the sun, and mostly just talking. No one even commented on Susan's and my absence the previous night, even though I'm sure someone must have noticed. Part way through the afternoon George and Bob joined our group.

As I have said, when we swim - and, for that matter - when we are just lying around relaxing on the beach, no one bothers to wear even a sarong. I am surprised by how quickly I have adapted to spending time in mixed company nude, but by now I don't even find it in the least bothersome. I also enjoy the view and it appeared that the women are equally entertained by looking at our male bodies.

Another thing about which I still am a little confused. As might be expected when a group of relatively young men and women spend time naked in close proximity, there was a lot of touching, kissing, and feeling of a sexual nature. No one ever seems to be in the least embarrassed or bothered when these "demonstrations of affection" occur. Even when a member of a "couple" like Nate and Joan begins to play with someone else, there never seems to be the least animosity on anyone's part. I have accepted this even though I don't really understand why. I was at first surprised when Susan even pushed me towards other women - as she had with Tami that first punishment session - but I have found that she bears no jealously whatsoever. Even more astounding to me, I have found that when, as this afternoon, someone else - in this case it was Bob who first did it - when someone else begins to kiss or caress her, I felt no real jealously myself, despite the fact that I am coming to believe I'm falling in love with her.

The normal rules do not seem to apply here. And when Bob's attentions began to become more intimate, his hands and tongue beginning to explore the more private portions of her body, I still felt only happy about the pleasure he was bringing Susan. And when Deborah moved behind me, pressing her nude body against mine while letting her arms wrap around me, her hand caressing my partly excited member, I turned to her not with any idea of getting even with Susan, but rather merely in the expectation of the pleasure our activities would bring us. Soon Joan and Nate and Deborah and I were all down on the blankets making love while the other four were nearby, watching and doing some teasing of their own. I - and I am sure none of the others - felt anything expect pleasure and joy. As I said, I don't really understand it, but I have come to accept it.

March 11 (Nine Day)

Last night was another first - perhaps the most unexpected of my stay here.

The staff ate together and then broke up, going in different directions either singly or as couples. Susan and I sat for a while talking and watching the sun set over the sea. As dark began to fall the conversation turned to the punishment sessions. Now that I think about it, I believe Susan deliberately steered it in that direction. But, regardless of how we got there, at some point I asked about what was inside the punishment shed. "I know you must keep the whips and such there, but that's a pretty big building. There must be something else in there."

Susan laughed. "There is. Sometimes - especially if the weather is bad - punishment sessions are held inside. Would you like to see it?"

Of course, by then I said I would. We stood up and began to make our way along the path, turning when we neared the area where I had watched the - yes, festivities is the right word - where I had watched the festivities the day before. The building was dark, but Susan led me up to a door and inside. There were some windows high up, but not enough light to really see anything. "Wait here a second," Susan said. "I'll light some gas lights."

In a couple of minutes she had ignited several of the wall mounted lamps and their glow illuminated the large space. I looked around and was only a little surprised to see a number of devices similar to those I had observed in use outside. There were a couple of vertical posts with high crossbars - whipping posts - along with a number of various kinds of benches, usually padded and with rings and straps for binding the victim. Chains hung from the ceiling in several places and there were some waist high bars obviously for bending a victim over. A couple of tables, a large X-shaped cross, and a few other unidentifiable items completed the furnishings.

There were several cabinets along one wall and Susan led me over. She began opening doors and drawers and showing me a variety of cuffs, straps, chains, and other binding devices along with a truly vast collection of whips, crops, straps, switches and other flogging instruments.

I picked up a cat of nine tails and let the leather strands flow across my hand. Almost too quietly to hear I asked, "What does it feel like?" Then I shook my head and added, "I mean, I know it hurts, but it also seems to excite. I guess I still don't really understand."

"That's not really surprising," Susan replied. "It's something completely outside your usual experience. Everyone is curious when they first see these things. You know from watching the two sessions that what we do here is not really awful or anything and that everyone involved gets some pleasure from it. But it's not just the sting of the whip. Part of what makes it exciting is the helplessness. You saw me yesterday. I couldn't use my hands and that really excited me."

She looked over at one of the whipping posts. "Imagine yourself there, your arms pulled high above your head, bound so you can't move them. You're stretched up on your toes, the muscles along the backs of your legs stretched taut, while you wait for whatever is to come. Doesn't that idea excite you?"

I realized I was breathing slightly faster. "I'm not sure. I think it does, but I still don't see why."

"Look. Let me tie your hands to it and then you can tell me what you feel." I wasn't sure I wanted this, but on the other hand, I wasn't sure that this wasn't exactly what I did want. My mind was mixed up, but I had to admit the picture of being bound helpless was having an effect I would never have imagined.

Susan took my silence for acquiescence and moved to pick up a pair of the leather cuffs which she started to buckle around my wrists. I was almost ready to pull my arm back, but the first touch of the leather unexpectedly sent a shiver up my spine. I let her apply the cuffs to my wrists where I found them actually quite comfortable. Susan then led me over to one of the whipping posts. This was a pole, about five inches in diameter, set vertically and reaching a height of eight feet. About seven feet off the ground was a cross beam two feet or so in length.

Susan moved a small block of wood over to the base of the post and had me stand on it. She then used chains attached to the ends of the crossbeam to pull my wrists high and apart. When she had the cuffs secured, she moved the block which left me stretched and not quite able to keep my feet flat on the floor.

I have to admit that the overwhelming helpless feeling which I experienced somehow seemed to excite me sexually. I could feel my member begin to harden under the sarong and the exposed skin of my back felt super sensitive to even the slightest of air movements.

Susan moved up beside me and let her fingers trail down from my armpits, along my ribs, to my waist. I shuddered and Susan said, "Well, Alex, what does it feel like?"

"I'm not sure," I replied. "I'll admit it excites me, but I can't really say exactly what I'm feeling."

"It can be a unique sensation," Susan said. "Being stretched. All of your body available for whatever your captor wants to do."

A ripple of movement and excitement went through me again, but just then I heard voices and the door to the building opened. I didn't know who was coming in, but I didn't want to be seen like this. However, there was nothing I could do to alter the situation and Susan, instead of releasing me, turned towards the voices and called out, "Come on in. I think he's about ready."

Confusion seemed to fog my mind. I twisted my head around towards the door and saw Nate, Joan, Deborah, and Jenny entering. They approached and spread out around me and I'm sure I turned bright red despite the many times over the last days I had spent with them, often naked. Jenny reached out an ran her fingertips down my chest and then bent over to lick at my nipples. Deborah took my firm cloth covered member in her hand and gave it a squeeze through the sarong. Then I heard Nate say, "Well, I see you seem to have everything under control, so I'll leave you girls to it. Just don't ruin him for work day after tomorrow." With that cryptic admonishment Nate turned and left the building.

Susan moved around in front of me so I could look at her. "Alex, I think I told you that all the staff participate in administering the punishments. But before anyone ever delivers the first stroke of a whip, he or she must experience being on the receiving end. We decided that tonight would be a good time for your ... initiation. Tonight the four of us are going to work you over, Kawi-Kawi. You will get to experience a number of different things." Then she leaned close to my ear and said so quietly that no one else could hear, "Just relax and enjoy it, Lover. If it really gets to be too much, just say 'red'. OK?"

I managed a numb nod and Susan stepped back just as Joan said, "Don't you girls think he's a little overdressed for this?" Amid a chorus of agreement she reached forward and pulled off my sarong, leaving me completely naked.

The strain on my arms was quite strong but I suspected I would be in this position for a while. The four girls moved over to one of the cabinets and soon returned, bringing with them a selection of whips, crops, and paddles. I looked at the instruments and felt myself begin to sweat. Susan was holding one of the cats used to "warm" the victims before the punishment sessions. She approached me swinging the tails back and forth.

I stared at the swaying leather strands as she neared, my eyes following the mesmerizing movement. Susan stopped about two feet in front of me and looked directly into my eyes. "Just flow with it, Lover," she quietly said. "You're going to like it."

I was not at all sure she was correct in her estimation of my response. The long leather tails looked like they could slice my skin to ribbons. I trusted Susan not to really hurt me, but I still felt this whole thing might be a lot more than I really wanted. Imagining such a thing might be really arousing, while the actuality might provoke an entirely different response. Susan again looked into my eyes and then, still swinging the cat slowly back and forth, she moved around behind me, out of my field of vision.

Deborah and Joan were still in front of me where I could see them looking intently at my bound form and I think Jenny was off to one side, slightly out of my line of sight. I could hear Susan moving behind me. Then it became quiet. I could no longer sense any movement of the leather flails and even the breathing of the women was so shallow and quiet I could not discern it. Then my ear detected a sudden movement of air a fraction of a second before I felt the leather strike my buttocks. My tension was such that this first touch of the instrument caused me to clinch my muscles and jerk hard against my bonds. I gave a partly strangled cry, largely at the surprise, because the blow itself was not really that hard.

A second stroke followed this first. And a third. And a forth. Each blow was harder and each began to sting. If you have never experienced this - and I expect few have - I should explain that the touch of a cat is a complex feeling. There is, of course, the sting of the end of each individual leather strand as it snaps against the flesh. This can be either a small sharp pain which is gone nearly as soon as it arrives or it can be a burning pain which lingers. The force of the blow is not what determines this, but rather the sudden curve of the tip. A person who has experience - as Susan seemed to - can control this effect at will. But there is more to the feel of the cat. The body of the cat - that is, the aggregate mass of all the tails where they are clustered together - also provides a unique feeling as it contacts the flesh. This blow is more of a flat, hard impact than a sting. It, too, can be controlled by a person knowledgeable in the use of the instrument. A cat can, of course, inflict severe injury, both bruising and cutting slices, if the wielder wishes. However, it can also provide unmatched sensations to the skin without perpetrating true damage.

This is what Susan accomplished. Don't get me wrong. It did hurt. Both the slap of the leather bundle and the sting of the individual tails sent my nerve endings into overload. The lashes grew stronger and soon I found myself crying out as each set of stinging lashes met the skin of my buttocks. I could feel the heat, the pain of the stings lingered, and my skin became even more sensitive. But a strange thing happened. At first the blows only hurt. But soon the heat and sting began to provide a different form of stimulation. Susan had delivered a dozen or so strokes when I noticed that my member had hardened into a rigid rod and that I was actually arching my rear out in anticipation of the next blow. The pain was still there. Was it ever! But it was also being converted into an intense sexual stimulation.

Susan delivered perhaps two or two and a half dozen strokes before stopping. Then she came around in front of me again. Looking first into my eyes for several seconds she then reached down to grasp my hard rod and gave it a quick squeeze. Her eyes left mine and she bent forward to plant a warm kiss on the sensitive end of my excited organ. As she stepped away, I saw movement from the corner of my eye. I turned my head just in time to get a single glance of Jenny, riding crop in hand, moving behind me. I twisted to look over my shoulder and saw that she had taken a stance slightly behind and to my left. Then I discovered that Deborah, another crop in her hand, was standing opposite Jenny to my right. I knew what would be coming and I began to sweat a little more.

The first slash of the crop landed across my already hot right cheek. The crop, like the cat, delivers a multitude of sensations with each blow. The shaft - in this case a flexible bamboo encased in a thin layer of leather - leaves a line of fire, as though one were touched with a hot poker. The leather loop at the end slaps against the flesh as it completes a high speed arc when the shaft stops against the flesh with the result that a wider slap spreads a sharp, flat pain over several square inches of skin. At the time I didn't really analyze this effect, however. I merely reacted to a pain greater than the cat had provided. In fact, if I hadn't already been "warmed" by the cat, I'm sure that blow would have had me screaming "red." But as it was, the hurt again transmuted itself into sexual stimulation.

Deborah quickly struck my left cheek and then both girls began to beat me in earnest. I could see Susan and Joan looking on with rising looks of lust on their faces as I tried to jerk and twist away from the attack. Of course, stretched as I was, there was nothing I could do to avoid the blows and, in reality, almost nothing which would even mitigate the effect. The girls gave me another two or three dozen strokes, but they didn't limit themselves to my now flaming buttocks, but rather began to spread blows onto my thighs, back, and chest. I cried out, jerked and twisted, but I now realize I never even thought of calling "red" to stop the flogging.




Spice Plantation Ch. 06



At last the striping with the crops stopped and once again Susan approached. She stretched up on tip toe and brushed her lips against mine as her hand lightly caressed my throbbing cock. "I think you like that, Lover," she whispered, as Jenny and Deborah began to run their hands over my abused rear end. Then all three girls stepped slightly away and Joan approached. I looked at the instrument Joan was carrying and nearly lost my resolve to let this new experience continue. She was holding a single tailed leather whip. It had a handle which was perhaps two feet in length and carried a single, tapering tail nearly five feet long. The leather looked soft, but I knew such a weapon could cut a man deeply and leave him scared for life. I didn't fear that this would happen - I trusted all the women too much for that worry. But I was sure it would hurt worse than either of the previous torments and I wasn't sure I could handle it.

Again Susan must have read my eyes because she came close once more and whispered, "You can take it, Darling. We've all felt it and managed. Just lose yourself to the feeling." She let her hand slide slowly down from my face, across my chest and stomach, and along my turgid rod. Joan moved behind me, out of my sight, and I tensed for the first blow. Time seemed to stand still and it felt like an hour before I finally began to let my muscles relax slightly. At that instant the sinuous leather ribbon sailed through the air and struck my right cheek. It wrapped across my buttocks, forming itself to the curve of my rear, and the tip of the flashing tail continued on around my thigh and landed with a searing snap against the front of my left thigh at the point where it met my body. It felt like molten iron had been dropped in a line across my flesh and a puddle spilled in the crease of flesh where my leg met my body. I screamed. I make no excuses. It hurt like nothing I had ever felt before. But in some incomprehensible way it also stimulated and excited. The blow drove my body forward against the post, but it also seemed to drive my hips, led by my stiff rod, forward and I felt an overwhelming sexual excitement as through my tool were sliding into the tightest and hottest of women imaginable. Joan paused for several seconds as I got my breath back. She must have realized at about the same time I did myself that I was not going to call out "red." Another searing blow wrapped itself across my rear and around to my right thigh this time. Again I cried out and again I felt the unbelievable sexual excitement as my hips and rigid member strained forward.

Just before Joan struck again, Susan moved forward and dropped to her knees in front of me. She leaned forward and when the third stroke burned its trail across my tormented flesh and drove my hips forward with an unstoppable thrust, Susan's warm, wet mouth engulfed me and her hot tongue slid over the head of my member as it shoved deeply into her willing mouth. Joan gave me another four lashes, each of which left a hot, red welt, but did not break or otherwise damage the skin. And each time I pushed hard into Susan's mouth as she licked and sucked encouragement. When the last stroke landed and I rammed my hips forward, I lost any semblance of control and released my juices in several hot, hard spurts into Susan's hungry mouth. As I hung limply from my bonds I realized with surprise I had never even thought of trying to stop the flogging, even when those terrible burning strokes landed on my skin.

The girls began to release me from the post and all four pressed against me, their hot, bare bodies and willing mouths beginning to arouse me once more even so soon after that exhausting climax. They held me for several minutes, letting me rest. I thought I was finished, but then Joan informed me that I had just begun.

The five of us remained in the shed for another three hours. During this time I was bound in several positions to a number of different punishment benches and frames. I had my rear assaulted with wood and leather paddles, a leather tawse, and several different cats. I received two strokes from a bamboo cane, but I was told - as if I couldn't tell on my own - that these were too severe for general play punishments. I was also subjected to several other torments. A couple of times the girls used metal spring loaded clamps with serrated edges - alligator clips, Bob and George call them - to attach to my nipples. These provide a searing pain which soon dims to a dull throb and then hurts like the blazes again when they are removed.

Another time I was tied bent forward along one of the punishment benches, my legs spread, my rear arched up and available. The girls whipped me again with the cats and then suddenly I felt a finger touch my anus. The finger, which I found to be Susan's, was covered with a slick grease of some kind - later I was told it was petroleum jelly. She pushed her finger into my rear and began to twist it around. I was surprised when this intrusion resulted in nearly instant arousal, but Susan has since told me that digital stimulation of the male prostrate gland almost always produces this result. Whatever the reason I can't deny that the feeling was extraordinary. She played with me for a couple of minutes and then removed her finger. But a few seconds later something else, which I was later to discover was a greased piece of a broom handle, was pressed against my nether opening. I had never imagined that being penetrated here could result in such exquisite sensations! The girls used this tool to demonstrate their side of sexual penetration for ten or fifteen minutes while taking turns applying their mouths to my again excited - and now slightly sore - rod. At last, as Joan was moving the slick shaft quickly in and out of my bottom, I again shot a large load into Jenny's welcoming throat.

At last I was so sore and exhausted that the girls decided I had been sufficiently "initiated" and they released me. Susan took me back to her hut, stopping in the bath house long enough to clean me up, and put me to bed for the night.

Today I do feel sore in a number of places, but really I have only a few actual hurting spots. Most of the marks have disappeared already and my desire has returned full force as Susan and I proved three times before we finally got out of bed for lunch. I am beginning to understand the fascination with bondage and punishment.

----------------------------------------------------------------

I sat up, closed the journal, and took a long drink of water. I looked over at Judy and saw that she was breathing quite fast. "That is hot!" she said. "I really wish I had met your aunt and uncle. They sound like really 'alive' people." Judy and I were once talking about what made people sexy. We, of course, mentioned things like physical attraction, interest in sex, and so on, but we finally agreed that the main thing all really sexy people had in common was something we called "aliveness," meaning that they had an appetite for life in most of its many aspects. Such people seem to radiate a glow of wanting to do and experience things and we have found that this attitude generally carries over to their sexual activity as well.

I stroked her bound body, letting my hands slip across her breasts and hard nipples and then bent forward to kiss and suck each of the firm nubs. In another couple of minutes I was plunging into her very willing body, driving myself hard against her as she strained against the ropes holding her to the lounge. Her feet were loose so she was able to clamp them tightly behind my back and soon both of us were lost in a sweating climax as I drove her hard against the leather surface of the lounge and she used her hard leg muscles to try to pull me in even deeper.

As we emerged from our lust induced high, I pulled back slightly and looked down at this beautiful woman. Judy and I had begun this relationship with the idea of hot and free sex, but over the last couple of months had become very good friends as well as lovers. I was now beginning to believe it was becoming something else. I didn't yet use the word love even to myself, but it was there, hovering in the back of my mind. And surprisingly I didn't find the idea at all frightening. In fact, quite the opposite.

At last I released her and we headed for the shower and then into the kitchen to find something for supper. We carried trays back into the bedroom and built up the fire once more. I could get used to spending weekends naked with Judy, rarely straying from the fireplace and then only to the kitchen to get food or to the playroom for dessert.

It had long since grown dark out again, but now the roads had been cleared and no more snow was falling. Judy snuggled her bare body against me and nuzzled my neck with her lips. She lifted her mouth to my ear, ran her tongue lightly around the inside of the shell, and whispered, "Why don't you tie me over the horse, warm my bottom, and then fuck my ass, Lover? Then we can go to bed and spend a few hours just making love."

This sounded like an offer I was not going to refuse. I glanced at the closed bound volume and decided it could wait until morning. After all, we still had one more day of the long weekend and there was only a little of my uncle's journal left. It looked like this weekend was going to really work out all the way around. 



Spice Plantation Ch. 07



I lay on the bed beside Judy, casually stroking her firm and still warm bottom as she sighed in contentment. Thirty minutes earlier she had been tied along the length of the padded horse, her ankles spread to the two legs at one end and her wrists to the two at the other. Nipple clamps dangled from each breast and she ground her pussy hard against the smooth padding of the horse with each stroke of the cat I delivered. I whipped her until her entire ass was red and hot to the touch and she was squirming back and forth, desperately trying to get herself off. I finally stopped and moved behind her and pressed my lubricated cock against her tight and puckered rear opening.

Judy had already come once from the whipping itself and started to again almost immediately as I entered her tight rear passage. I reached forward and tugged slightly on the nipple clamps as I drove myself, slowly at first, and then faster, in and out of the warm, dark tunnel, my thrusts stopping only when my thighs pressed tightly against her burning cheeks. It wasn't long, despite the number of times I had already come, before I came again, spurting several times deeply into her bowels.

Now we lay resting and I realized that we had never made love as many times in so short a period or as intensely as we had that weekend. I let my hand slowly caress her warm rear and on down her smooth thighs. "You really seem to be hot this weekend, don't you?" I asked.

Judy twisted her head around to look at me. "I don't see you complaining. And for that matter, you seem pretty excited yourself."

I smiled down at her. "I guess I am. Honestly, Judy, I've never had this kind of sex with any woman before. You are fantastic!"

She moved her hand up and let it gently touch my face. "Neither have I, Paul."

I knew what she meant, but I started to make some crack about her having sex with a woman and then I realized she was serious. I took her hand in mine and slowly raised it to my lips, kissing it lightly, all the time looking deeply into her eyes. I was beginning to think that Judy might be the only woman I'd ever be interested in again.

She pulled my hand back and kissed my fingers in return and then said, "You do excite me, Paul." Then she broke the mood before we got too serious and added, "Of course, spending several days naked might have a little to do with it also."

I grinned back at her. "Like that, do you?"

A slightly surprised look came over her face. "Yes, actually I do. I wouldn't have guessed it would be quite this hot, but I find I do really like it. And do you know what? I think sometime I'd like to find somewhere where we could go nude outside as well." She looked over towards the window for a second. "But somewhere a little warmer." Then she closed her eyes for a second and I could see the expression on her face go through several changes as she visualized something. "Like maybe your uncle's plantation. Paul, that journal has really been turning me on, too."

"It was a total surprise to me when I found it," I answered. "But, yes, it is really very hot. When I first started reading through it, I think I was hard the whole time. Reading it to you is even hotter."

"Em, yes. We still have one more day, Paul. Can you read me the rest of it tomorrow?"

"Certainly. We've been through most of it already, but there are still some good parts left. I've looked for more volumes, but so far I haven't found any. It might just be this is the only one he was able to get out when the Japanese came. But there might be more. There's a lot of stuff still up there in the attic."

"I hope there are more. Anyway, I want to hear the rest of this one tomorrow." Suddenly Judy yawned deeply.

The yawn was catching and one of my own overcame me. "I guess we're both pretty tired."

"I wonder why," Judy said sarcastically. Then she yawned again. "I still want to spend a few hours making love, but if I fall asleep while we're doing it, I bet you'd be ticked off at me, wouldn't you?"

"If I didn't fall asleep first. Let's sleep a few hours, Lover, and then maybe we can manage. If you're keeping score I'm sure this will still be a record weekend even if we sleep first." Judy stuck her tongue out at me, but ruined the effect by yawning once again. I kissed her, pulled a sheet over us, and held her close against me.

We did wake up a few hours later and sometime between midnight and dawn we did spend another hour or two making slow, easy love.

Monday morning was overcast, but there was no snow or wind to speak of. Judy and I showered together and then found some breakfast. After we ate, I looked out and could see traffic on the major roads in the distance, but we had another day of the holiday weekend. As I was looking out, Judy came up behind me. She wrapped her arms around me and pulled herself close. I could feel her bare pubes against my buttocks and even before she reached around to grasp me, I could feel myself begin to grow hard. She kissed my back and said, "Come on, Lover. I want to hear more about your uncle."

I turned and pulled her into a long, hard kiss. When we broke apart, she gave my cock a quick squeeze and them took my hand to lead me over to the lounge again. Soon I had the fire stoked and Judy bound to the leather furniture. I teased her for a couple of minutes and then, pinching her nipples lightly, picked up the journal and began to read.



March 12 (Ten Day)

By today I no longer had any marks showing from my ordeal. In fact, my skin no longer even felt tender. Susan explained that once one learned how to use the various whips, it was possible to deliver a variety of pains - thudding, stinging, lingering - without doing any real or lasting damage. Of course, as I already knew, it was also possible to do severe damage with the instruments, but Susan assured me that such was never the case here.

We spent most of the day swimming or just lying around. We were down at the swimming cove after lunch when Nate and Joan came by and joined us. He asked me if I now understood our games a little better and I told him I was certainly starting to comprehend.

"Well, now that you have been 'initiated', Alex, I see no reason why you can't help with the punishments next Seven Day," Nate threw out almost casually.

"I'm not sure I'm ready for that, Nate," I replied. "I've never swung a whip in my life and I'd be afraid I might do some real damage."

"Oh, you'll have to practice," he said. "Definitely have to practice. But, after all, it is part of the General Manager's duties." Then he smiled directly at me. "A most pleasant part," he added.

Susan put her hand on my arm. "Don't worry about it, Alex. We can go over to the hut after supper sometimes and I'll help you. It's really not that hard. Just takes a little practice."

I smiled back at her and patted her hand on my arm. Then the subject changed and everyone seemed to forget about it.

We spent the rest of the afternoon just swimming or lying in the sun and dozing. Of course all of us had shed our sarongs and were completely nude. But one of the surprising things I've discovered is that once the novelty of being naked in mixed company has worn off, the driving sexual urge first associated with it also seems to diminish. That is not to say that there is any less desire or interest in carnal activities. It was not at all unusual for one of our "swimming" parties to turn into a wild sex session. Not a planned orgy as such, but erotic couplings could start at any time with no particular trigger. However, it was also not unusual for us to just swim or lie around talking. I guess that once the mind is convinced that there is no rush - that is, that the interest and availability isn't going to disappear - the urgency to take advantage of the free attitude is reduced. A man traveling across the sands of a desert will immediately drink his fill and often then some when he comes upon an oasis, but the same man traveling along side a river will only drink when he is actually thirsty. Perhaps that's not the best comparison, but it is something similar.

We eventually went back for supper and afterwards spent a half hour in relaxed conversation. Suddenly Nate stood and said, "I think I should take Alex over to the hut and give him the basics of handling a whip. You girls want to come along?"

Both Susan and Joan immediately agreed and soon the four of us were entering the punishment hut. Nate lit some gas lamps while I looked at the collection of whips and the various devices to which the victim could be bound.

When the room was sufficiently lighted, Nate went to the wall and removed a cat of nine tails whip. This particular model had an eighteen inch polished wood handle and nine tails, each about two and a half feet long. He showed me the individual strands of the tails. "Notice, Alex, that the leather is not only oiled and soft, but the edges of the strands are rounded so as not to cut the victim's skin."

I took the strand between my fingers and at once saw that Nate was correct. The cat I had seen used in the army had tails of heavy, thick leather, each tapering to a narrow point at the far end. Each had been cut from the leather sheet with a single pass of the knife, leaving a sharp, ninety degree corner on each side of the strands. And while still flexible, the strands were fairly stiff. That whip could cut a man's back to ribbons. However, this whip was entirely different. Each strand was of medium thick leather, tapering from about a half inch wide at the handle end to only slightly less at the other. Instead of just being square cut, each strand had the edges rounded and smoothed. The leather had been kept soft with oil and I could see that even if the whip was swung with considerable force, there would probably be no real damage done to the skin. This whip had an entirely different purpose from the army model.

Nate took the cat back. He moved over to where a leather covered bench stood by itself. This was obviously a whipping bench. It consisted of a four foot long rail and a cylinder of leather covered padding, about ten inches across. The rail was supported by A frame legs at either end, and the outsides of the legs were connected with a solid panel of wood. Thus it resembled a wedge, three feet high, four feet wide, with the rounded leather replacing what would have been the narrow edge. On each of the two wood side panels were two small shelves, each about six inches wide and a foot and a half long. These were also padded and equipped with straps which could obviously be used to bind the victim's forearms and legs.

Nate pointed to the bench. "These are good whipping benches for the beginner to use," he said. "Joan, want to show Alex how they work?" Joan moved over beside us, dropping her sarong along the way. She mounted the bench, kneeling on one set of the side shelves and then lay forward along the length of the rail to rest her forearms on the other set. This left her bottom raised and opened. Her magnificent upper works hung down on either side of the padded leather rail and both of her private openings were clearly exposed. Nate moved over beside her and showed me how the straps could anchor her tightly to the device. "In this position the victim can't suddenly jerk and make the whip strike a more dangerous area. Her bottom, back, and legs are easily available, as well as her sides and the sides of her breasts. Not to mention it feels awfully sexy to be tied in that position. Thanks, Joan."

Joan climbed back off the device and Nate moved over near it and ran his hand along the padded leather cylinder. "It is also useful for practice. After all, leather is skin. You can tell a lot about how effective a stroke is by examining how it strikes leather." He raised the cat and suddenly brought it down in a fast arc, the tails striking the smooth leather. The sound of the strike sounded almost exactly like the whips hitting the victims at the last punishment session. In fact I could feel my buttocks clamp down involuntarily in response. Nate went on. "Now any idiot can beat someone with a cat, but that's not what we're trying to do. We want to inflict pain, but not so great that the pain dominates all else. A cat can produce two kinds of pain: a slap and a sting. The surface area of the set of tails striking together is a lot like a paddle and can produce a flat slap against the skin. But the individual ends of the strands produce a sharp sting as they land. The secret is to flick the wrist at just the right time. Then you can produce both sensations with the same stroke."

Nate demonstrated several times and then he handed me the cat. "Now you try it, Alex." I was unprepared for the effect holding the whip had on me. There was a sense of power which completely surprised me. The idea that I would determine what some other person felt and that he - or she! - had no say in the matter at all, was exhilarating. This might have been expected, at least intellectually, if I had stopped to think about it. However, the feeling which really astounded me was the sudden and nearly overwhelming feeling of sexual arousal which accompanied raising my hand holding the whip. I felt my member suddenly harden and I sharply drew in my breath.

It was sudden and unexpected, but it only took me a couple of seconds to regain control. I looked over at Nate and he nodded. I turned back to the bench. For two or three seconds I stared at the leather cylinder, my mind trying to picture a nude man strapped there, exposed and waiting. It didn't feel quite right and I quickly changed my mental image to a nude woman. Again the sudden urge of arousal struck me. I raised my arm with the cat and brought it down in a quick arc. The leather tails slapped the bench, but the sound was not quite what it had been when Nate had demonstrated. "Don't be afraid to strike harder, Alex. The victim would hardly have noticed that one. Remember, with these whips it's almost impossible to do any real damage when you strike someone on the arse. Try again."

I straightened by back and brought my arm up once more. This time I let my arm feel like a cocked spring and when I released it, the leather whistled slightly in the air and the sound it made as the tails struck the padded leather sounded much more like Nate's demonstration. "That's better," Nate enthused. "Did you hear both the slap and sting sounds?"

"I think so," I replied.

"Try some more," Nate encouraged.

I delivered another dozen strokes, each time gaining a little more confidence. By the end Nate was complimenting me and saying that I was beginning to get the idea.

Then Nate called a halt. "The cat is pretty easy to learn to use adequately. However, a real, single tailed whip is a lot harder." He returned the cat to the wall and picked up a whip with a single five foot strand atop a two foot wood handle. He handed it to me to examine. "Notice that the tail begins as three strands of leather braided together and tapers until at the very end there is a single four inch piece, about a quarter inch wide. The braided strands lend enough weight to make the tail really move and the single, small tail can deliver an exquisite sting. However, it is a lot harder to control and, if misused, can and will do a lot or real damage. To use it correctly you must not only learn to give it the correct flick of the wrist, but you must also learn to guide it without error to its intended target.

Nate moved over to a cabinet and returned with a stack of small paper cones. These were just rolled paper, glued into a cone shape, about three inches high and an inch across at the large end. He placed a row of six of them, large end down, along the top of the padded leather of the bench. Each cone was spaced about two inches from its neighbor.

Then Nate moved back so he was facing the side of the bench and standing about eight or nine feet away. Suddenly, his arm snapped forward and the single leather tail snaked out towards the bench. There was a sharp crack and the paper cone at the left end of the row seemed to jump into the air as the sharp report of the whip crack sounded. My eyes followed the cone as it fluttered to the floor and I saw that the small end of the whip tail had cut a sharp gash in the side, nearly separating the paper into two parts.

"Did you notice that you did not hear the tail touch the bench? With practice you can learn to place the end exactly where you want it. The process becomes part of you and you don't have to think about it at all. But you must learn to control it well enough that you strike exactly where you aim EVERY SINGLE TIME."

"Can you ever really be that sure?" I asked. "I mean, it seems like no matter how much you practice that there are too many variables to be completely sure."

"Oh, it's a confidence you can gain. It just takes practice. Let me show you." Nate went over to where Joan and Susan had been standing and watching the demonstration. He said something to Joan, but it was too quiet for me to hear. I did hear the words "gum arabic," however.

However, Susan must have heard it because I heard her say, "Me, too, Nate. If you think you can get four in a row."

Nate smiled an OK and the girls moved over to another cabinet. They retrieved something I couldn't see and began to do something with it. They had their backs to us, so I couldn't get any idea of what was going on at all. Then they walked over to the bench and turned around to face us, leaning back against the padded leather and arching their backs to throw their chests out.

I stared at the sight which they presented. Both were, of course, bare from the waist up and now each had a small, two inch candle rising from the top or each breast, just behind the nipple. Evidently the gum arabic had been used to hold the tapers in place. Nate handed me a match and said, "If you would be so kind as to light them, Alex."

Almost in a trance I moved over to the two women as they steadied themselves against the bench. I struck the match and quickly lit each of the four candles and moved back out of the way. I could see an occasional grimace as a drop of hot wax flowed down a candle and onto the sensitive surface of their smooth skin, but neither woman moved in the least, so the candles stayed steady and vertical. Then Nate raised his arm, trailing the long leather tail of the whip behind. In my mind's eye I saw the lash suddenly snake forward with terrifying speed, the end strike the unblemished skin of a lovely breast, leaving a cut and bleeding line where it landed. Then I blinked and saw that Nate had not yet moved his arm.

Suddenly the arm snapped down and the lash jerked out with eye blurring speed. But instead of the damage I had feared, the sudden loud crack of the leather tail only left the candle on Joan's left breast extinguished. The candle itself remained upright and her lovely globe remained as unblemished as before. I stared in amazement as five seconds later a second crack snubbed the flame of the candle attached to Susan's left breast. Another five seconds and the other candle flame disappeared from Susan's chest. A final crack left only two smiling women and four candles, still attached firmly in place, but now only trailing small traces of smoke.

I was speechless! Then Susan called out, "Want to go for four more, Nate?"

He grinned back at them and produced another match which he handed to me. Still in a slight state of shock I relit the four cylinders, now somewhat diminished in height and watched as four more slashing strokes of the whip again reduced them to short, smoking columns. "Now clean it up, Nate," Joan called. Nate acknowledged with a nod and four more quick slashes of the leather tail pulled each candle free and sent it flying across the room, but left not a trace of a mark on their skin.




Spice Plantation Ch. 07



I looked from the two women to Nate. "I guess I believe you know how to use that," I said, "but it must take a lot of practice. I don't know if I'd ever be that sure of my aim."

"Well, you certainly wouldn't want to try that right away," Nate agreed. "However, you can learn it faster than you think. You should first concentrate on placing the lash exactly where you want it and later worry about learning to control the sting. A good way is to use the paper cones. Dust the bench with talcum and then set the cones on it. You should learn to take them off without smearing the powder."

Susan moved over beside me and looped her arm through mine. "I'll work with him, Nate. I'm willing to bet that by next Seven Day he'll be ready to warm a couple of backsides."

"OK, I'm sure he will. But, Alex, if you don't feel completely ready, you can just help by using the cat. You can learn to handle that quickly enough and Susan will make sure you know how hard to use it. I think you can get a feel for the single tail by then as well. Trust Susan. She'll make sure you're ready."

Joan came over and whispered in Nate's ear. A smile spread across his face and he turned back to Susan and me and said, "If you can handle it, Susan, Joan has something else she wants to do."

Susan said, "I'll take it from here, Nate," as a wide grin spread across her face.

Nate and Joan quickly said good-night and left the shed.

"I wonder what they suddenly had to do," I questioned.

Susan laughed. "You can't guess?" I shook my head. "They had a sudden need to go to bed," she laughed. "That business with the candles and whip had Joan dripping. Believe me, I fully understand."

My look of surprise must had been easy to read, because she added, "It's really not surprising, Alex. We both know that Nate is good enough that there was almost no chance he would touch us with the whip. Still, even the slightest possibility lends a real edge to the excitement. Risk often acts as a really strong sexual stimulant."

I looked closely at Susan and now I saw the slight flush to her skin and saw her breathing was still slightly fast. "Do you feel a sudden need, too?" I asked.

Susan laughed. "Actually, I do, but let's put it aside for a while. If you're really going to learn to handle these things in the next seven days, we're going to need to practice some each night." She picked up the cat. "Let's work on this a little first."

We spent the next two hours working with the cat. First, Susan had me practice swinging it through the air without striking anything at all. Then I moved on to deliver blows to the padded leather surface of the bench. I would swing a couple of times and Susan would evaluate my work. "That was more of a flat blow, Alex. No sting. Try snapping your wrist just before the tails strike."

I corrected and Susan encouraged me. Then she would fine tune it. "Listen to the sound of the tails striking the leather. Here, let me show you." Susan took the cat and landed a couple of strokes. "That's the way it should sound. Now listen to this." Another blow. "Hear how flat that sounded? A blow like that might hurt some, even bruise, but there would be no real sting. Listen to this one." She struck again. "Now that one would really sting. In fact, there would probably be no slap or thud at all, but the ends would have the victim screaming at the top of his lungs. That's a little harder than we would ever want here."

She demonstrated several times until I thought I could tell the difference between the sounds. Then she gave me back the whip and I began to strike, giving her my evaluation with each stroke. She would either confirm or correct my estimate of the effectiveness of the blow.

After a while Susan stopped me for a short rest. "What we try to do with the cat, Alex, is to strike so that the victim feels a slap as well as a sting sharp enough to hurt but not enough to overwhelm him." She stopped and thought a second. "I think I should give you an idea of how it will go. Why don't you get on the bench so you can get to feel what the victim experiences. We'll use these benches next Seven Day so everything will seem familiar to you."

I moved over to the bench and climbed up to kneel on the rearward set of ledges. I bent forward and rested my forearms on the forward set. This position immediately induced a feeling of helplessness, making me truly feel like a victim with no control over what was going to happen. My rear end was high up and spread open and I felt totally defenseless. Susan came around and started to strap my forearms to the padded ledges. When I started to protest, she said, "Come on, Alex. I want you to really get a feel for what it's like." I relaxed and let her bind my arms and also my lower legs to the padded leather.

I was then lying along the length of the padded rail, my sarong covered rear sticking up and my chest pressing against the rapidly warming leather. Susan moved alongside me and began to slowly drag the soft leather tails of the cat across my bare back. Then she reached towards my waist and unfastened the sarong, pulling it from my body. Now I was completely naked as well as bound in an open and helpless position. I could feel my arse tighten, but I could also feel my member begin to swell with unexpected excitement. The tails trailed on down across my bare buttocks and thighs and I sharply sucked in my breath.

"Now do you see why the men want to get punished?" Susan asked. "I mean, besides just to impress the ladies." I didn't have to answer because she went on. "I think, before I let you loose, I'm going to show you the difference between the different kinds of strokes. First some that are all slap." Susan swung the cat against my exposed rear. It landed with a flat "splat" sound and I felt as though I had been struck by one wide object, such as a paddle. It hurt a little, but not badly, and certainly not with any kind of sting. Susan delivered another dozen of these, varying the strength from a light swat to one which felt like I had been hit with a wide board. It knocked me hard against the padded leather. I could feel my skin beginning to warm but, in all honesty, id did nothing for me sexually.

Then she switched to stinging lashes. These had none of the slap of the first blows, but each left nine separate stinging hurts on my skin. The sting rapidly dissipated, but left a warm afterglow. I could feel my rod begin to stir in response. Then came a short series in which the sting no longer stimulated, but only hurt. Each wrung a cry from me and I attempted to break free, but to no avail.

"Now, Alex," Susan finally said, "this is what they should feel like." The next dozen strokes had elements of both the slap and sting. The broad slaps of the group of tails striking my flesh were not hard enough to bruise or drive me into the bench, but they left a wide, warm area in their wake. But each stroke was also accompanied by a set of sharp stings as the ends of the tails struck. Susan moved these lashes around so that different areas of skin were struck and no one spot became overly damaged. While some of these blows again caused me to cry out, I found that the overall effect was one of intense sexual stimulation. My rod was by then straining against the padded leather in an attempt to stand upright. If I could have raised myself high enough for it to fit between my stomach and the bench, I am sure I would have climaxed all over the smooth leather.

Suddenly Susan stopped and I groaned in frustration. "Before we finish, Alex, I think I should let you feel a couple that are beyond what we want. These will hurt " - did that mean she thought the others hadn't hurt!?! - "but I think it's important for you to know what the result of an error in judgment on your part would be like for the victim. Just three strokes."

I tried to brace myself for what was to come, but when the first blow struck, I was nowhere near prepared. The slap was hard enough to drive me forward onto the bench, but the real pain was from the nine stings. Sting is too mild a word. The nine individual pains were like nine sharp nails being quickly dragged along my skin. I screamed in response and strained against the straps holding my arms and legs. Susan didn't give me time to beg her to stop or otherwise I'm sure I would have. Instead she delivered two more strokes which seemed to slice me in strips as they landed. With the last of these, the ends of the tails curved around the rounded shape of my buttock and disappeared into my crack where they seemed to set fire to the most sensitive skin on my body. Then she stopped and as my cries diminished and I began to breathe a little more easily once again, her smooth hand began to stroke the abused area. "I didn't do that just to hurt you, Alex. It really is important that you know what a mistake on your part will do. Forgive me?"

I was still breathing hard and trying to regain control, but I managed to answer, "Of course, Susan. I understand why you did it, but it still hurt like hell."

"Poor Alex," Susan murmured. "I'll try to find some way to make it up to you." Then I felt her tongue begin to lath my abused bottom. Susan's firm tongue swept over the damaged area and her small hand worked itself around my balls, giving them small squeezes. For several minutes she continued her oral and manual attentions and I began to forget the earlier ordeal, my mind filling with the immense pleasure of the current happenings. Her hand left my testicles and made its way up and around my now totally stiff member, her fingers beginning to lightly stroke around the sensitive underside below the head. Just as I felt myself about to loose control completely, Susan's tongue pushed hard against my anus and I felt myself began to flood her hand with spurt after spurt of warm fluid.

Susan released me and got a damp cloth to clean me and the leather of the bench. "There now, Alex. Did that help take your mind off of the whipping a little?"

I smiled back at her. "What whipping?" We both started to laugh but somehow got distracted by a long kiss.

We practiced for another half hour before we quit for the night. Susan seemed to think I had mastered the cat enough to use it at the next session and said that we would concentrate on the single tail whip for the next few days.

March 13 ( One Day )

Tonight Susan once more took me out to the shed after dinner and spent nearly three hours instructing me on the use of the single tailed whip. As Nate had suggested, she first set up a row of the paper cones along the punishment bench, but didn't bother with the talcum powder. When I asked about it, she just replied, "First you have to learn to hit them." I didn't think it would be THAT hard, but I quickly found out I was mistaken. The first time I began to try to hit the row of four cones, it took me twelve tries to knock them down, and I got the last two with one stroke. Of course the strokes struck more than the cones. Sometimes I missed completely but others I hit the leather of the bench or both the bench and a cone. I even managed to strike my own ear once.

By the end of the evening, however, I had improved to the point where I could knock down a cone without striking the leather of the bench with about one stroke out of three. Susan said this wasn't bad, although I felt I should have been doing a lot better. She suggested I might see if I could get free for an hour during the day to come practice as well as each evening. I could do that even if she wasn't available then. I'll try to do so tomorrow.

March 16 ( Four Day )

After dinner tonight we were all sitting around outside with a cool drink. Susan and I planned to go back and practice some more, but before we left one of the workers hurried up with a sheet of paper and handed it to Nate and me.

I should mention that the plantation has a wireless transmitter and that we maintain a fixed listening schedule for an hour on each even numbered day. Since the schedule of the cargo ship which carries our supplies and takes the finished products to market is not fixed, this allows us to be ready when they dock.

However, tonight's message was not about the cargo ship. Nate read the message and then looked up. "Well, everyone, guess who is coming by on Seven Day."

Bob was the first to speak. "You don't mean von Holt, do you?"

"Right first time," Nate said.

"But it hasn't even been six months since he was here," Deborah said.

"True," Nate replied, "but he's in this part of the world and plans to stop by. It will just be a short visit this time. He only plans to stay for three or four days. He also adds that everything is fine and don't go to any special trouble for him."

"Sure," George muttered. "No matter how nice the boss, you always want everything to be just right when he comes. Well, actually, we're in pretty good shape right now. At least, mechanically."

"In other ways also," Nate added. "Probably he couldn't have picked a better time, actually."

I was a little uncertain about the whole thing. Nate had told me that von Holt stopped by for a visit about once a year or sometimes a little more often. He then just went over the books with Nate, over any management problems with the General Manager (Me!), and in general had a very casual visit.

"Just what should I do to get ready?" I asked.

Nate turned around towards me. "Nothing, really, Alex. He's just stopping by for a quick visit. If you have any questions for him, get them ready. I know he'll want to meet you in person, but you don't have to prepare anything special. Oh, and I guess it means you'll probably have an additional audience for the session on Seven Day."

"You mean the punishment session will go on as scheduled?" I asked in surprise.

"Of course," Nate replied. "Von Holt knows all about them and approves. In fact, I think he may have had something to do with starting them himself. I know he - and maybe his 'friends' if he brings any with him - will definitely want to watch."

I still felt nearly panicked. "Maybe I should wait and participate the next time," I said. "Let you experienced people handle this one."

"Nonsense," Nate said, dismissing the idea. "Susan tells me you're coming along nicely. I'm sure you'll be ready."

We talked about the visit for a while longer before the group broke up. Susan and I started walking out to the shed for more practice which I now feared would never be enough in time. She tried to relax me. "Look, Alex, he's very casual about everything. Just think of him as another staff member."

"That's hard to do when I've never met him. After all, I was hired without even speaking with him. What is he doesn't like me?" I was probably overly concerned because of my past history of short employments. Of course those had usually resulted from too much contact and disagreement with the boss, rather than not enough.

"Don't worry so, Alex. He trusts Nate completely in terms of personnel. In fact, I think this entire plantation is just a kind of game with him. He never seems to be to interested in the fine details, just the overall operation. And that the staff and workers are happy."

"Nate said something about 'friends.' Who's he likely to have with him?"

Susan smiled. "I don't know, but I'm sure you'll like them. I've been here for three visits from Herr von Holt. He travels on a private boat, a sixty foot sail craft. He has a small crew and each time he has visited he has been accompanied by two, three, or four beautiful women. I don't think they have anything to do with running the plantation at all. In fact, I think their main activities are carried out horizontally. They might make some demands of you, but I'm sure you can handle them, Kawi-Kawi."

I stopped and stared at her. "You mean sex?" I blurted out.

Susan's laugh sparkled the air around her. "Whatever gave you that idea? Of course, I mean sex. Each time he's been here, his traveling companions seem to be thinking about only one thing. I expect the men - whoever they are and however many they are - who are getting punished on Seven Day may find themselves worn out by next One Day." Her face took on a little more serious look. Alex, I can't be sure, but from what I observed and my professional training, I think that all of von Holt's women are, if not nymphomaniacs, the next closest thing."

I stared at her. "You really mean that?"

"I don't mean there is anything pathological about them, but from what I've seen, they don't seem to be able to get enough. You know that everyone on this island loves sex and spends a lot of time engaged in those activities. But von Holt's women don't seem to do anything else. I can only imagine that the men who crew his boat must have immense stamina, because I don't see any way von Holt could handle them by himself, no matter how good he is."

"Oh, is he supposed to be pretty good?" I asked her teasingly.

"Well, the girls do seem to line up when he stops by." Susan giggled. "I've even heard the idea that maybe his name is really von Horse."

"Know that from first hand knowledge?" I taunted.

"Actually, Alex, yes. When von Holt stops here he sleeps with most of the female staff and a lot of the native women. And, yes, he is hung like a horse. At least ten or eleven inches or so."

I stared at her. "Are you serious?"

"Yes, I am. He is the largest man I have ever seen. And remember, as a doctor, I have seen a few." Then she took on a serious look. "Alex, size isn't everything. Having a man that big is definitely a unique experience, but, frankly, he's not my ideal lover."

"Oh, and just how would you describe your ideal lover, anyway?"

Susan looked up at my face. "I'm beginning to think that would be you, Alex." Then she broke the mood, slapping me on the rear and starting to run towards the shed. "Come on, Lover. You'd better get to practicing."

March 18 (Six Day)

The last several days have been extremely busy. No matter what was said, everyone did spend a lot of extra time to make sure the plantation was as near perfect as possible for the arrival of "the boss." In addition I have been spending several hours each day practicing with the whips. In this time, I have become much better than I would have expected and now have enough confidence that I am only a little terrified of performing in front of everyone (including von Holt!) tomorrow.

An hour after dinner, Susan and I once again headed towards the shed for some more practice. During our session last night I was able to remove twenty of the small paper cones from the talcum covered leather bench without disturbing the dust. In addition, Susan judged from the sounds and the conditions of the fallen cones that I was striking with the correct control. We had tried several dozen strokes on the leather and again Susan pronounced each of them an effective, but not damaging, stroke. Tonight, as we entered the shed, I felt as though I only needed to keep my acquired skills, rather than still needing to prefect them.

This attitude lasted until we stepped into the dim interior of the shed. Unlike most nights, I could see that the gas lights had already been lit. I didn't think too much about this until we opened the door and stepped inside. Here I froze and much of my newly gained confidence seemed to flow from me and disappear. I stared into the center of the shed where four of the padded leather punishment benches we have been using to practice were arranged in parallel, side by side. And attached to three of them were the lovely nude and bound bodies of Joan, Jenny, and Deborah. Each girl was straddling the padded bar, her knees and lower legs strapped to the two small shelves on the sides, her forearms strapped to the two smaller shelves on the front sides. Three lovely, smooth posteriors projected above the rest and, needless to say, their spread legs gave me a most inviting view of three sets of private parts.




Spice Plantation Ch. 07



Despite my surprise and sudden loss of confidence, I felt my rod immediately begin to swell. Susan moved up beside me. For a second she just stood with her arm around my waist as I gawked at the incredible view. Then she said, "We thought it only fair that you get a chance to get even for your initiation, Alex." Her hand dropped to her side and her sarong seemed to fall to the floor of its own volition. She quickly walked to the fourth bench and mounted it. "Strap me on, Alex, and then you can do what you like with us."

I started to protest, but Susan - and also the other three women - urged me on. They told me it would be a good chance for me to practice and, besides, they would enjoy it. Intellectually, I accepted this. And I certainly remember how sexually excited I had become on the receiving end during my initiation. I know how hot the punished women became each Seven Day session - How could I forget Tami! But I still had trouble accepting that these four wanted me to whip them.

I struggled with this for a long ten seconds or so before I gave in to their urging and my own lust and went over to pick up a cat. I moved behind the four young women and began to let my hand stroke slowly across this bounty of bare flesh. For several minutes I continued to stroke and feel, squeezing buttocks and breasts, lightly pinching nipples, and drawing my fingers along damp creases between spread legs. Then I started to drag the soft leather tails of the cat across backs and bottoms.

If I had had any question about the willingness of my four captives, it disappeared as I observed their reactions to the touch of the sliding leather and to the first light stings as I began to slap the lashes against their flesh. The sounds coming from the four women were more moan than anything else, I could see the dampness around the folds of their flesh, and I could actually smell their arousal. I forgot about my inhibitions and started increasing the strength of the blows as I had been taught and as I had seen them do themselves at punishment sessions.

I didn't concentrate on any one victim, but spread the lashes around. I began to increase the strength to the point where I could hear a satisfying snap and could see red marks begin to appear on the tanned flesh. Harder still until each lash was bringing a cry which was nearly drowned out by the passionate moans of the other victims. At their urging I began to strike elsewhere, stinging and lightly marking breasts, thighs, and flanks as well as backs and bottoms.

All four were trying to rub against the leather benches to stimulate themselves, but as I continued I noticed that both Joan and Susan seemed to be getting more excited that the others. My own member was sticking nearly straight out and pressing my sarong into an uncomfortable tent to the point where I reached down and released it, continuing my work dressed only in skin. I'm sure we five would have made a very strange - although very sexy - picture.

Suddenly as I landed a searing lash against Susan's hip and wrapped the tails into her open crack, she began to convulse in climax, accompanied my a loud cry. This seemed to set Joan off and she, too, started to shake as I quickly turned the flying leather tails on her.

Deborah and Jenny were both obviously very excited, but not quite so much as the first two women. I turned and delivered another half dozen hard strokes to their helpless bodies, raising their temperatures slightly, but not sufficiently for their release. Suddenly Jenny called out, "Take me, Alex. Fuck me hard."

The benches are of such a height that this would be an easy accomplishment, their spread openings of a height with my forward projecting tool. Still I hesitated. Perhaps because I had not done that for Susan. She must have sensed my reluctance because, still coming down from her own climax, she called out, "Go ahead, Alex. We all expect to be fucked before you let us up. Whip us with the other tools and fuck each of us, Kawi-Kawi. In any opening you want."

Here I was, whipping four bound and naked beauties, marking their lovely skin with red lines, and the one I thought I might be falling in love with was urging me to whip them some more and to fuck each of them in "any opening I wanted." My logical forebrain simply ceased to respond and the deeply buried center of lust must have gained control, because this idea seemed to make perfect sense.

I dropped the cat and picked up a long, limber riding crop. I gave Joan and Susan each a couple of quick slaps with the instrument and them began to concentrate on Jenny and Deborah. I left red lines from the leather encased shaft and red triangles from the flat end loop on bottoms, thighs, and breasts. The two girls screamed but arched for more of the punishment. They were obviously becoming more excited - as was I. Jen and Deb were side by side on the center two benches, Joan to Deb's right and Susan to Jen's left. This made it easy for me to concentrate on the two of them. Suddenly, after a hard stroke, Jen cried out again, "Fuck me, Kawi-Kawi. Please fuck me."

I could wait no longer and moved up behind her, pushing my turgid rod against her soaking and puffed inner lips. I slid inwards in one long slide which didn't end until my thighs met her hot, red buttocks. The cry that escaped her lips was one of release but the simultaneous cry from Deb was one of frustration. Even as I began to plunge in and out of Jen's tight tunnel, I raised the crop and delivered another stinging slash to Deb's unprotected rear.

For a half dozen strokes I pushed myself in to the limit and pulled back out nearly to the point of loss. Then I withdrew completely, Jenny's moan of frustration loudly protesting the act, and moved behind Deb, where I thrust forward, impaling her deeply. I used the crop on Jenny as I drove in and out of her friend for another half dozen strokes. Then I reversed once more. I continued to alternate in this manner for several minutes. It was necessary for my own part if I wanted to prolong my own climax. If I had taken even one additional stroke in either girl before withdrawing, I'm sure I would not have been able to stop. As it was Jen started to convulse in orgasm just as I pulled free of her clutching flesh and moved back over to Deborah. By now I was also nearly lost and as I began to plunge in and out of Deborah's grasping muscles I knew I could not make another cycle. In another three strokes I was pumping my juices into her willing body, an act which seemed to trigger her own orgasm.

At the urging of the four women, I left them bound to the benches for the next two hours, during which I demonstrated my newly acquired skills with cat, crop, and the single tailed whip. As I continued my confidence returned and I realized that much of my use of the instruments had become almost instinctive. The less I thought about what I was doing, the more the devices seemed an extension of my hand and did what I actually wanted them to do. Only once did I estimate incorrectly and landed a stroke on Deborah's rear which snapped too hard and actually broke the skin slightly. She screamed, but when I started to profusely apologize, she quickly stopped me and said that she would forgive me only if I kissed it to make it better and then fucked her. It didn't take me to long to agree to this solution.

By the time I finally released the women, all were marked with many red areas, but none looked severe. All (except Deb's small cut) will probably be gone by tomorrow. All were also satisfied sexually and assured me they had enjoyed everything. I had also reached climax myself an astonishing seven times. As Susan and I made our way back to my hut, I said she would have to wait - maybe a few days - until I recovered. She laughed, kissed my ear and ran her tongue around the inside. "Well, maybe at least a couple of hours," she said. Later that night she proved she was right.

March 19 ( Seven Day )

Just before noon today von Holt's boat, a rather large sail craft, arrived and tied up at the dock. All the staff, dressed in our sarongs, went down to the dock to meet him. The crew appeared to be all island natives and all male. They expertly brought the craft alongside the dock and quickly made it fast with ropes fore and aft. A few seconds later a gangplank filled the short space between the deck and the dock.

We all watched as four figures made their way from somewhere on the foredeck, down the gangplank, and onto the dock. The first was obviously von Holt. He was a tall man, perhaps even a little taller than myself. A healthy tan covered his exposed skin which was considerable as he wore only a short sarong. He had blonde hair, cut medium short and combed in a conventional style. I guessed his age at late forties, but he was in very good physical shape for this age. Perhaps he is younger. He moved along the dock directly to Nate and, although his feet were bare, I almost imagined hearing his heels click together.

He and Nate shook hands and exchanged friendly greetings. However, I will admit I don't recall exactly what he said. My attention was focused on the three others behind him. There as a pale blonde woman, nearly six feet tall, huge eyes of a light blue color. Her skin, although tanned, was a light color, giving her a definite Scandianian appearance. Next to her, appearing almost short in comparison, but actually quite tall herself, was a woman probably of Spanish origin. Her dark eyes and long dark hair and sharply sculpted face reminded me of the daughter of a Spanish Grandee of the sixteenth century. The third was obviously of Asian ancestry. I couldn't tell if she was from the mainland of Asia or the near island chains. She truly was tiny, perhaps only five feet tall. Again, long dark hair and dark eyes, but with an oriental shape, lent her face an aura of mystery and promise often associated with the East. All three women were in their mid twenties and all were truly beautiful, well formed with excellent figures and lovely faces. All three were completely nude.

I heard Nate mention my name and was able to turn towards von Holt in time for him to introduce me. "Herr von Holt, this is our new general manager, Alex Robertson. You remember he's been with us since mid February."

"Of course," von Holt replied. "Mr. Robertson, it is a pleasure to meet you in person. How are you finding our little enterprise?"

Von Holt spoke excellent English, with only a small trace of a German accent. He presented a very friendly smile and extended his hand. I shook it in response and answered, "It is indeed a true pleasure to meet you, Sir. I would also like to express my profuse thanks at giving me this opportunity. In the short time I have been here, I have come to love both the job and the people associated with it. I could not think of a better position." I had been told that, although von Holt ran the plantation in a truly enlightened and relaxed manner, he still retained an affection for the Teutonic form and expected formal responses. He always addressed the staff by surname and expected the same in return. Still, as I realized that my remarks about 'loving the people' and 'no better position' could be, perhaps, taken to have another meaning, I noticed what I thought might be a quick smile at the corners of his eyes. If he did take it as such, he made no mention.

Von Holt spoke to the rest of the staff members, shaking hands with each, men and women alike. Then he introduced the three women. "These are my companions, Greta, Maria, and Su-lei." He introduced each of the staff in turn. Each of the three spoke to each of us in response and all spoke fluent English. However, unlike their reserved leader, each of the three greeted us less formally. Instead of shaking hands with the men, each girl wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a most deep and intimate kiss, pressing her bare body against him from shoulder to knee. They were only slightly less restrained with the women, hugging them tightly, bare breasts to bare breasts, and kissing them on the cheeks.

After the "introductions" we all made our way back towards the main building. As we passed, many of the native workers waved and cheered at von Holt who acknowledged them with a formal wave of his own and, in a number of cases, by recognizing the worker by name. I was surprised at this, but quickly saw that von Holt, although he was absent most of the time, took a real interest in his workers, both Western and natives.

Since it was near noon, we went directly to the dining room where a luncheon was set out, buffet style. Von Holt, without seeming to try, directed the seating so that he was at one end of the long table, flanked by Susan and Joan. The two nurses sat next to them. Then on one side was Bob, Maria, and George. On the other was myself, Greta, Nate, and Su-Lei. The order didn't seem important until I realized that the three women had been placed so they were surrounded by the men of the staff. I first noticed this when Greta began to run her hand up and down my leg, even reaching slightly under my sarong and Maria started rubbing her foot against my calf. I glanced around and noticed that the other men seemed to be receiving similar attention and recalled Susan's remarks about von Holt's traveling companions being nymphomaniacs or the next thing to them. I decided this was going to be an interesting visit.

I stole glances to see if von Holt was behaving in a similar manner, but only noticed that he had a tendency to place his hands on Joan and Susan as he spoke to them. However, each time I heard him speak, he addressed them as "Dr. Hartley" and "Miss Butler." Formal to a fault, perhaps, but I thought I noticed that all four of the women were slightly more flushed than usual. His reputation? Their past experience with him? Or, for that matter, I had no idea what was going on under the table.

After lunch Nate and I began a general tour of the plantation with von Holt, while the rest of the staff went back to their jobs. The three women accompanied us on the tour; however, they didn't interfere with our conversations, contenting themselves with looking around and frequently talking with the native workers, especially the men. I did notice they had no hesitation at close physical contact with those with whom they spoke.

Von Holt was extremely knowledgeable about the plantation and its operations. He seemed to accept my level of knowledge as reasonable for someone who had been here such a short time and, although we maintained formal address in our conversations, I quickly began to relax in his presence.

We returned to the main building where von Holt, Nate, and I moved into Nate's office to discuss the details of recent activities and the financial state of the operation. The three women left us at that point and I have no idea where they went or what they did. Perhaps to "observe" Bob and George? We spent about an hour and a half going over the paperwork. Then, as we leaned back from the last report, von Holt remarked, "Very good. I see it is nearly time to end the working day. Today is Seven Day, I believe. Is there a punishment session scheduled?"

I was so surprised by the question that I sat still, unable to speak, but was saved embarrassment by Nate, who replied, "Yes, there is. I believe there are three men and three women and Susan and Alex are going to be administering the strokes."

"Very good," von Holt said again. "Now if you will excuse me, the girls and I will meet you at the hut before you start. Do a good job, Mr. Robertson." With this he stood and left the room.

I turned to Nate and asked, "He really understands what goes on at these sessions, doesn't he? I mean I don't have to change anything because he's here, do I?"

Nate smiled. "No, the punishments will be carried out as usual. The only difference will be after, when I expect the three men will be the guests of von Holt's women for a good part of the night." At my questioning look he continued, "Look, Alex, I'm sure Susan explained that von Holt's women are, to put it mildly, enthusiastic about sex. Watch them while the men are being whipped. I'll bet they are more aroused than any of the native girls."

"Oh, and, Alex, don't be surprised if one or more of them invite you for some play while they are here."

I hadn't really considered this. "If that happens, should I accept?" I finally asked.

Nate laughed. "That's up to you. But if you don't you'll miss out on a real experience. Just be sure you're rested first. I'll see you and Susan at the shed in a few minutes." With that he left me standing there, more confused than I had been since my arrival. I stood there for a minute or so and then shrugged to myself and went to find Susan.



"It doesn't end there, does it?" Judy asked almost desperately. "Not after that build-up, it just can't end here."

"No, not quite yet, but right now I think I want to do something besides reading. How about a little trip to the playroom?"

I could see her relax. "I could go for that as long as we can read the rest later today. Just what did you have in mind, Lover?"

"You need to ask? Oh, I guess you meant the particulars. Let's go downstairs and see what develops." I untied her and we made a trip to the bathroom and then, with our arms around each other's waists, we started down the stairs.

We entered the playroom and looked around at the various toys. Our gaze came to rest on one of the whipping benches I had built. Having just read the description of the ones used on the plantation, we were both struck by the similarity of our own device. The bench I had built consisted of a four by six beam, heavily padded and covered with black imitation leather. The beam was about three feet long and set a little over two feet above the floor on A-frame supports at either end and a third support in the middle. On each side there were two padded two by four shelves, each covered with the same smooth, black material. The two near one end were set eight inches below the top, while the two at the other end were several inches lower. The lower shelves were cantilevered out beyond the A-frame support, running from the central support to about a foot beyond the end support.

As we looked at this, I slowly said, "I think maybe I need some practice, like Alex."

"Yes, I think you might," Judy added, her voice growing husky. She moved to mount the bench. Judy knelt on the extended lower shelves, her shins on the padded surfaces, her feet extending down over the ends. She leaned forward along the length of the bench and rested her forearms on the upper shelves. Each of the shelves is equipped with straps to bind the victim's limbs and I tightened these around Judy's wrists, arms, and lower legs. This left her lying along the length of the bench, her lovely breasts hanging down, pressed against either side, her pubic bone pressed against the end of the beam and her beautiful, smooth ass sticking up invitingly. Her spread legs revealed both of her openings and I could see the moisture seeping down the inside of her thighs.

I went to the wall and returned with a soft leather cat. This one has a polished sixteen inch wood handle and nine soft leather tails. Each tail tapers from a half inch to about a quarter. I lifted the whip and made a couple of practice swings through the air. At the swishing sound I could see Judy react by clinching her buttocks. Her breathing had noticeably speeded up. I began to slowly drag the tails over her bare body, letting the soft leather slide over her thighs and buttocks, along her crack, and on over her back and the sides of her breasts.

I continued to tease her in this manner for several minutes. Then I stopped and moved alongside where I began to fondle her breasts and roll her nipples between my thumbs and fingers. Her nubs immediately became harder and I continued to squeeze and tug at them. I reached over and picked up a pair of clamps I had placed nearby and quickly let one close over her right nipple. I added the other to her left as she made a small moaning sound. I tugged on the clamps a couple of times and then added a small lead weight to each, before returning to using the leather tails to tease her some more.




Spice Plantation Ch. 08



We brought some lunch back in by the fireplace and ate with me sitting on the floor and Judy sitting on my lap. Of course we were both still naked. I was coming to find - and I think Judy was also - that spending the weekend naked was great. Neither of us had ever spent a long time at a stretch in the nude, but now we hadn't worn anything since Friday afternoon - almost three full days so far. We no longer thought it odd to head to the kitchen to get food or downstairs to the playroom or anything else without bothering to even put on a robe. We had become quite comfortable remaining bare and both of us enjoyed the sight of the other's body. I certainly know I loved looking at Judy's beautiful form.

After we had finished eating (and a little necking), Judy wanted to go back to reading the journal. Although I had already read the journal myself, I was just as eager to begin again as was Judy. Especially since she wanted to be tied down while I read to her. I arranged her on the lounge and secured her wrists and ankles once more and picked up the thick book to begin where we had left off before lunch.

*

March 19 (Seven Day) - Later

I found Susan just coming out of the clinic. Before I had a chance to say anything, she greeted me, "All ready to go beat some beautiful women, Alex?" I know she put it like that to tease and embarrass me, but it still worked.

I finally stammered out, "Von Holt said to go on with it, so I suppose so."

Susan laughed at my discomfort. "Don't worry about it, Alex. Von Holt feels the same way about these sessions as we do. And the natives love him. In case you haven't noticed, they treat him with great respect but are not standoffish at all. After all, he takes good care of them. And the men certainly have no problem with his women. Let's go on down to the shed."

We made our way along the path and arrived at the shed before almost everyone else. The six "victims" were there along with four native men who had been designated to help. There were also about a dozen other natives - men and women - who had come down early to either taut or encourage the victims, depending upon how you looked at it.

At a quick word from Susan, the helpers bound the hands of all six behind their backs. They were, of course, already naked, but this served to raise their level of apprehension a little. We had already agreed that for this session, Susan would punish the men and I would correct the women. Since we had spent most of the last several days practicing with the whipping benches, we had decided to use these today. There were only four of the benches in the shed, so we had the helpers move three of them outside where the punishments would take place. Among the posts and other fixtures permanently set outside the shed were four low plank benches. These were about four feet long and ten inches wide and were supported eighteen inches off the ground. We had decided to use these to put the men on display after their punishments while the women were bound to the other benches for their own session.

We had the whipping benches set up four feet apart, parallel to each other while the rest of the plantation's population began to arrive for the festivities. And festivities was certainly the right word. Everyone appeared to be in a party mood, even the six who were to soon be the center of the activities. The staff arrived along with von Holt and his three traveling companions. The four of them came over to the six bound natives. Von Holt spoke to each of the men and then turned his attention to the three women, who returned his interest in full measure. Although he addressed each as "Herr" or "Fraulein" he was otherwise quite informal, often reaching out to touch the women when he addressed them. None of the three seemed in the least bothered by the familiarity and I noticed that often their glance seemed to seek out the front of his sarong, perhaps to judge if what was concealed therein lived up to its reputation.

The three women were not nearly so formal. They clustered around the three bound males and their hands frequently made their way out to touch and stroke. I even noticed a couple of quick touches to the genitals of the bound men. The look in their eyes, their actions, clearly showed their sexual excitement and hunger. Susan was right. There could be no mistaking their interest and intent.

Finally the four went over to join the rest of the staff and the helpers proceeded to bind the three men to the punishment benches. As I have described before, these whipping benches consist of a horizontal bench, padded, supported on two slanted sides. There are two ledges on each side of the slanted sides, those at one end several inches higher than those at the other. The men knelt on the lower set of ledges and placed their forearms on the higher set. This left each man with his nether regions raised high, his chest lower than his buttocks. Each man then had his forearms and lower legs strapped to the ledges.

The three women were taken over to one of the high horizontal rails where their hands were rebound in front and their arms were raised over their heads and secured to the high bars, leaving them fully on display in a position where they could also watch the men.

When everyone was gathered, Susan announced the offenses and the sentence of eighteen strokes. Then we began to warm then with the cats. I will admit that applying the cat to a male gave me a slightly odd feeling which I had not felt when I practiced on the women. I can't exactly describe it except to say it was not sexual in the least. Quite the contrary, more like it was a duty I needed to perform. When I had whipped the women, I found myself becoming even more excited than I had from just watching the earlier punishment sessions. There was something about the power conferred by the whip when using it on a woman who I knew desired it. But lashing the bound native men left no such feeling. I was not repulsed or anything, as I knew that no real damage was being done; however, I received no excitement from the act. Susan, on the other hand, seemed to be becoming a little aroused and I suspected the effect on her was similar to the effect whipping her and the other women had on me.

We soon had the men "warmed up" with a few lines showing on their buttocks and a few cries coming from them as we worked. Finally I stepped back and Susan traded her cat for the long single tailed whip. She cracked a couple of practice strokes over each man, causing each to cringe and a few teasing calls from the assembled watchers, especially the women. I should mention that von Holt's three women were right there in the front rank with the native girls. They did not take advantage of their status to force their way to the front, but all three clearly showed the same interest as the several native women who were closely watching the three men.

Suddenly the whip in Susan's hand flew forward. A loud slap of leather on flesh was accompanied by a sharp male cry and a dark line across already reddened buttocks. She delivered six to each man, leaving six stripes on each bare rear. Then she stopped and quietly said something to two of the native women from the front rank of watchers. They giggled and ran inside the shed, to return in a minute. They went to the sides of the benches and I saw that each had several small spring clamps which they proceeded to attach each man. When they had finished they stepped back to their places to watch. I did notice that on their way back, both girls stopped long enough to quickly stroke the testicles of each man where they hung down at the end of the bench.

As I looked at the men, I saw that each had a clamp on each nipple, a clamp on a small fold of skin on each shoulder and a clamp on each cheek of his buttocks, nearly inside his crack. Susan again made a couple of practice strokes, primarily to further torment the men, letting them wonder when the next lash would come. Then she used six strokes for each man to remove the clips and also to slap the skin with the leather tails in the process. Most of these removals brought a sharp cry or scream from the bound victims.

With the men still breathing hard, Susan began to deliver the final half dozen strokes to each. She struck flanks, nipples, and across the buttocks with the tail of the lash slapping directly into the crack near the anus. The two strokes delivered here for each man, brought a scream or loud cry with each.

At last the whipping was finished. The three men were released from the whipping benches and taken over to the other three benches, where each was positioned on his back (and sore buttocks). His arms were stretched over his head and secured to the end of the bench and his feet were tied together under the bench, leaving him open and exposed. It was obvious that all three men had found the punishment stimulating and each sported a hard erection.

The three women were released from their hanging position and soon were bound to the whipping benches in the same manner as the three men had been previously. Susan announced that all three would receive ten strokes and be Quay-ri for the next three hours. We then began to warm them with the cats. Unlike the men, whipping the three young women did contribute to my arousal. I had still been slightly apprehensive when I approached the first girl, but as soon as the sound of the first lash striking flesh, and the sound of the gasp from the girl, reached my ears, I totally forgot any hesitation. I immediately felt myself begin to become hard and I saw everything - the flying tails, the color or each mark, the slight indentations of the skin when the leather first touched - with an unnatural clarity. Unlike warming the men, this was definitely exciting me.

We continued to warm them for several minutes and then Susan stepped back and handed me the single tailed whip. We had discussed this and both felt I was ready to use this instrument, even if I was not yet an expert. However, because of my neophyte status I was not going to try anything tricky, like Susan's removal of the clamps. I began, as had she, by cracking the whip over the three victims, watching their reactions as their bodies responded to strokes which never physically touched them. Then I let the first stroke touch the buttocks of the first girl, a lovely nineteen year old named Mei-lan. She gave an exquisite cry, but wiggled her bottom in open invitation of another lash. I felt the sudden rush of heat to my groin and the tug against the front of my sarong.

I now went to my task with interest and enthusiasm. I placed four strokes on each pair of taut buttocks, wringing forth a sharp feminine cry with each and decorating each firm globe with a red line. I stopped and the helpers quickly added a clamp to each of the six nipples. I had no intention of trying to remove them with the whip until I had had a great deal more practice, but their presence would enhance the punishment.

I then placed a lash down the flank on each side of each girl, ending with a snap of the tail along the side of each small, firm breast. This made six strokes. I placed another set, wrapping the whip around the outside of each thigh and letting the tail snap against the tender flesh on the inside of each pair of spread legs, just below where their puffy outer lips formed the crease with their legs. Each of these brought a loud scream, but they also seemed to arouse the recipients to a higher level. I had practiced this stroke with Susan and was confident that I could deliver an exquisite sting without producing any real damage. Susan had trusted me enough to let me try it on her.

We had also practiced the next strokes I delivered. Just as Susan had done with the men, I placed two strokes across each perfect set of buttocks so that the lash wrapped around the firm globes and the tail snapped into their cracks. I will admit I could probably have made these a little harder or a little closer to the anus, but the overall effect seemed to be very good as it was. Each girl screamed at each stroke, but none continued to cry out afterwards.

At last I stood back, sweat covering me from the waist up, and nodded at the helpers to remove the six clamps. "Quay-ri for three hours," I announced.

Von Holt quickly stepped forwards before anyone moved and spoke. "Herr Robertson, if I may make an additional suggestion?" Of course, I dipped my head slightly in acknowledgment. "I have spoken with the three men" - he nodded towards the three natives bound on their backs on the benches - "and they have no objection. So, I would suggest that for this Seven Day only, the men will not be on display, but will be Quay-ri also. If you have no objection, Herr Robertson."

I was startled by this as I had understood that men were always "on display" only, but I had no real problem with it. Even if I had, I doubt I would have spoken up. I replied, "Certainly, Herr von Holt. A wonderful idea."

I suspect the reason for von Holt's suggestion had much to do with his three traveling companions. All three, who were as always, completely naked, immediately moved up beside the three men. I saw three heads dip towards three rampant erections and then I was distracted by a movement to my side. I looked around and saw von Holt moving up behind the bound form of Mei-lan. The way the women were fastened to the whipping benches left their sex available and von Holt moved forwards against her hot and smooth buttocks. He did not shed his sarong as I expected but merely reached under it and raised the front edge. I got a fleeting glance at what appeared to be the largest male member I had ever seen and then I realized I was staring and quickly looked away. Two other men - including Nate - were approaching the other two women, but they, as was usual, were totally nude. I looked back at Mei-lan just in time to see her eyes open wide and an expression of surprise mixed with something else I couldn't identify cross her lovely face. Then her eyes closed, she threw her head back and a sound that was a moan of unbelievable pleasure escaped her lips.

I glanced back over at the men and saw that now all three were being ridden by von Holt's women. Each of the nude beauties was straddling a man, moving herself up and down with no embarrassment whatsoever, her head thrown back biting her lip in total joy.

Just then Susan moved up beside me. I felt her arm encircle my waist and then her bare breasts pushed against my side. "I think they're all going to be busy for awhile. Unless you particularly want some of that, why don't we go elsewhere?"

I looked down at her and smiled. "That sounds like a wonderful idea. But doesn't von Holt have plans for you?"

"As a matter of fact, Alex, he does. He has asked me to come to his hut tonight at ten." She put on a puzzled little girl face. "I can't imagine what for."

Then she added. "I also overheard the three women discussing you and I think you can expect a visit tonight also. So if we're going to have any time to ourselves, maybe we should get to it."

For just a second when she had mentioned von Holt's "request" a quick wave of resentment touched me. But then I suddenly realized I wasn't really bothered by the idea at all. After all, we both made love with a variety of others, sometimes even in the same room or bed. Sure, von Holt was the boss, but he had not given the slightest indication that he would use that authority to gain sexual favor. He was just part of the plantation "family" and I found that the idea of he and Susan together didn't really offend me. I probably gave more thought to what spending time with one (or more!) nympho manic would be like.

Susan and I made our way down to an empty spot along the beach where we spent an hour in enthusiastic play. Afterwards, as we lay resting, Nate and Joan and Greta came by. All three were bare, as were we, but there was no embarrassment as they sat on the sand to join us. We talked for a little while and then Joan and Susan conspired to tell Greta about my nickname. Not only that, but they - especially Susan! - insisted she investigate it for herself and, while Joan, Susan, and Nate spent an hour in a relaxed threesome, I was nearly exhausted by the most demanding woman I had ever had. Greta made Tami seem a timid virgin. Let me just say I was glad Susan and I had had a chance first.

*

March 20 (Eight Day) 

Last night seems like an unreal dream. The staff again had dinner together along with von Holt and his three companions. Everyone wore the usual sarongs except for Greta, Maria, and Su-Lei, who remained completely naked.

Did I also mention that all three were totally bare of pubic hair as well? On the plantation I had found that perhaps half or the women shaved themselves bare, including all four of the western staff. Susan had told me that when she arrived the two nurses had already been shaving their pubes and a number of the native girls were already hairless, but they had always used plucking instead of shaving. Susan did not want to go that far, but had quickly decided that she liked the totally bare feel, so she shaved and the idea had rapidly caught on.

After the meal we went out to the usual area to sit and have a drink, but von Holt and Joan soon departed our group, followed a few minutes later by Greta, Maria, and Su-Lei along with George and Bob. Susan, Nate , and I stayed until the sun had set and then broke up. Susan and I went to our own huts and I tried to get a little sleep before what I expected might be a nearly sleepless night.

I was right. About an hour later I was awakened by a diminutive and very naked Su-Lei wriggling herself against me. If Greta had been demanding that afternoon, Su-Lei was insatiable. During the next three hours I found myself expending more energy than I would have expected in three days. She made love with every part of her body and every part of mine. By the end of that time I found myself nearly exhausted, sore in many places, the canvas for many scratches, bytes, and other marks, and feeling totally drained. Su-Lei had pushed my reputation as Kawi-kawi nearly to the limit and I realized I had taken her in each of her holes and climaxed, I think, four times. Finally, with Su-lei lying spread out across my front, I dropped down onto my back. She pressed herself even harder against me, kissed me deeply and said, "Kawi-kawi, you are very good, but I think you are wearing out. Maybe again before we have to leave. Now you rest and I go find Nate."

She kissed me again and I stared in disbelief as she rose and headed for the door. I'm sure she really was going to find Nate, and from what he said this morning, I believe she succeeded. I dropped off to sleep once again.

The next time I awoke there was soft dawn light beginning to seep inside. What had awakened me was Maria, and as I opened my eyes I looked down along my stomach and saw the top of her head. The next two hours were no less active than had been my time with Su-Lei, but I'm afraid I managed only three times with the wild Spanish girl, although I'm sure she added to my collection of marks. When at last she kissed me and murmured, "Tonight, Kawi-kawi," I was barely awake and slept until nearly lunchtime.

Everyone ate lunch alone or in ones or twos. Susan and I took our food up the trail to our special overlook and made a picnic of it. She made a couple of remarks about my bites and scratches, but I noticed she had a few marks of her own. Also when I touched her breasts, they seemed to be quite tender.

I knew she had been with von Holt and she knew Su-Lei and Maria had come to my hut, but this didn't bother either of us. I did, however, have to tease her a little. "So, did the great von Holt stretch you too much last night?" I asked.

"Oh, he's as big as I remembered, all right," Susan answered. "You're not jealous, are you, Alex?"




Spice Plantation Ch. 08



"Actually, no," I answered. "I should be, and a few weeks ago I would have been ready to beat him to a pulp, but now, no, I'm not really bothered by it. Do Su-Lei or Maria bother you?"

"No, but I've had a lot more time to adapt to this way of living. Anyway, Alex, I told you von Holt is not my ideal lover."

"I can't imagine what he would be like in bed," I confessed. "He seems so formal whenever he speaks to anyone."

Susan threw back her head and laughed. "Alex, you wouldn't believe. He's a wild and ardent lover, he'll try most anything, but he calls me 'Dr. Hartley' even when he's fucking me." I looked at her in disbelief. "No, it's true," she said. "And, believe it or not, I call him Herr von Holt, even when I have his penis in my mouth. He's strange in that way, but he's a talented lover - a big, talented lover - but he's definitely not my ideal. I told you who I thought that was."

We ate and rested and sometime before we went back down the path we made love again and found that neither of us was really too tired or too sore.

*

March 25 (Three Day) 

Von Holt and his companions left about noon today. I haven't had much time to write anything here for the last several days. Somewhat because the last two days have been spent with von Holt in discussing plantation business. He is extremely knowledgeable and is interested in every aspect or the operation, even to the smallest detail. I think I learned as much from him as he learned about our current operations. Also, he is a comfortable man to work with. He is overly formal in address, but I no longer have any reservations about him as an employer or about my own performance in his eyes.

The other reason I have had little time to write is his traveling companions. I have not completely understood their relationship with von Holt. It seems that he usually has three or four girls who travel around with him and all are interested almost exclusively in sex. They stay with him for a while and leave to be replaced by others. No one seems to know where he finds them or what they do after they leave, but all appear to be insatiable. I have gotten the idea that when traveling, von Holt also has a similar strong appetite, entertaining at least one or two of the ladies each night. And then there is the crew of his boat.

Whatever their origin, the three women who visited here seemed to be ready for carnal activities almost non-stop. I have heard a couple of dozen of the native men discuss their episodes with the three, as well as I know each of the staff spent time with all three. I know I had a number of visits, once by Greta and Su-Lei together. I was barely able to function the next day.

Now, perhaps, the plantation can return to normal - whatever normal is for a Wonderland such as this.

I stopped reading. "There's one more section, but maybe we should see about supper first. At least as soon as I finish something else."

I had been casually stroking Judy's body while I read. That, combined with the subject matter, had both of us aroused. My rampant tool was aching for relief and Judy was squirming against the damp leather as the fire warmed her skin even more.

I leaned over and began to lick at her nipples and let my hands wander farther afield. Soon she was straining against her bonds as hard as she could.

I continued to tease and stimulate her bound body for another twenty minutes, often letting my hard member just touch her lips or brush against her nipples or pussy. This, of course, did as much to torment me to frustration as it did her. Finally, I could stand it no longer, and lowered myself onto her spread eagled form and ravished her to two lovely climaxes before I could hold back no more myself.

Afterwards, I released her and we hugged and kissed some more before heading for a quick shower.

When we came back I wandered over and looked out of the window. The sky still had a number of clouds, but the overcast had broken, and now, through the gathering darkness, I saw stars beginning to emerge in the cobalt dome.

Once again I built up the fire while Judy found more frozen components to a quite passable meal. We ate, side by side, at the small table set in front of the fire, while talking about my uncle and aunt and the journal.

When we had finished and taken the dishes back to the kitchen, I said, "Well, one more section. Ready for the rest of the journal?"

"Definitely," Judy answered. "But you've got to look for some more volumes. This is incredible, Paul. But for now, just tie me down again and read the rest of this one." She moved over to the lounge and started to lie back. Then she stopped and said, "And when you finish it, take me back downstairs and really work me over. We've got to go back to work tomorrow and I want a wild finish to the hottest weekend I've ever spent."

I put on her cuffs and started to tie her wrists and ankles. "As you wish, my lady. A hot story and then some hot torture. Be careful what you wish for."

*

March 29 ( Seven Day ) 

The last several days have been quite normal. That is, normal for this most un-normal place. When I think about the "normal" things that have happened and then think how I would have felt about them two months ago, I find myself beyond astonishment.

Let's see. Of course there is the normal daily work activities during which I wear only a glorified wrap around towel while well over a hundred beautiful young women go about their activities totally unclad. There are dinners with the staff where the women are bare above the waist. There are lunches on a lovely tropical beach, everyone nude, the talk often frankly sexual. The after lunch activities are also often sexual and carried out as couples or in a group.

I am practically living with a wonderful, exciting woman who is an educated physician, can fly a plane, can talk as a sophisticate or as the roughest sailor. We spend almost all of our spare time naked, make love usually three or more times a day, yet think nothing or spending an hour or a night in another's bed - sometimes together with the other couple. I think nothing of seeing two beautiful nurses walking nude into a communal shower and embracing each other. For that matter I think nothing (except erotic thoughts) at seeing them make love to each other on the beach after one of our picnics. "Normal" in the most wonderful sense of the word.

Three nights ago Susan and I invited Nate, Joan, George, Bob, Chau-lei and Mei-ho over for dinner and "dessert". Chau-lei and Mei-ho live with Bob and George, but no one is completely sure of exactly what the arrangements are. We mostly think that it is a small communal arrangement. The eight of us did have dinner, but dessert was a general orgy, although mostly as couples. Only no one worried over the make up of the "couples" which seemed to change frequently over the next several hours, anyway. I know I spent time (read ardent sex) with Joan and with Chau-lei and once with Chau-lei and Mei-ho together. Later, after everyone had left, Susan and I made love for another two hours, not even thinking about the fact that each of us had already been intimate with several others earlier in the evening.

Last night Susan and I joined Deb and Jenny at their hut along with a couple of the native men, Lhei, Che, and Ly-mei for a party. Again the evening was a kaleidoscope of sexual encounters. However, this time it was not entirely limited to male-female couplings. I watched as two and three women made love with each other. I joined another man in making love to two women who were making love with each other. About the only thing I didn't do was make love with another man. I still have no interest at all along these lines, but if there are those who do on this island, it would not offend me at all.

Perhaps strangest of all is that tonight there was another punishment session and I watched as Nate and Joan whipped and otherwise tormented three men and one woman, my only reaction being sexual arousal. In fact the woman was Tami who responded to her whipping with hot excitement and repeatedly begged to be "fucked" during her three hours Quay-ri. As with her previous stint on the whipping racks, I took her hard from behind while Susan - my, what, girlfriend?, mistress?, living partner?- while she not only watched, but urged me on.

It's a good thing Nate didn't try to tell me the full range of "normal" when he recruited me for this job. I would never have believed him, or, if I did, would have thought the whole enterprise a collection of lunatics. However, I am certainly happy he didn't. I can think of no where else on earth I'd rather be.

Yesterday I asked Susan if she'd like to spend a night up on the overlook again during our off time this period. She responded by saying she had a better idea, but she had to check with Nate first. After the punishment session today she told me what it was all about.

She had made sure it was all right for us to take the aircraft and show up late on next One Day and now she suggested we go to a neighboring island for the next three days and nights. We collected some supplies and food and moved them down to the aeroplane. Tomorrow morning we'll take off for an island Susan knows. She tells me there is a long stretch of beach where we can land and that we will have the entire island to ourselves.

*

March 30 ( Eight Day ) 

This morning Susan and I climbed into the plane and rose into the sky. Even though this was only my third trip aloft, it seemed almost commonplace to me, I suppose because of my confidence in Susan's ability to control the craft. We rose rapidly up from the cleared strip and soon I could see the plantation spread out like a model below me. Susan circled and headed the craft towards the southeast and in minutes only blue water was visible below us. A number of tiny islands dotted the sea in the distance to our left, but ahead I saw nothing but open ocean.

We had flown for about twenty minutes when Susan tapped my shoulder and pointed towards a dark smudge on the horizon ahead of us. As we neared, it resolved itself into an island, isolated by itself in blue water. It looked to be about two miles across with the ground rising sharply towards the center. When we neared, Susan circled the isle twice and I was able to see a protected lagoon, white beaches, and lush jungle rising to a central peak, the top of which surrounded a fair sized lake. I could see streams flowing down from the lake and a number of waterfalls that must be absolutely breath taking from the ground.

Susan located a long stretch of wide, smooth beach and made a low pass along it. Then she circled and repeated the pass at an altitude of only thirty feet or so. I assumed she was checking if the ground would be safe to use as a runway. Evidently she decided it would because on the next pass she dropped even lower and suddenly the wheels kissed the ground and then we were slowing and rolling along the beach.

When we finally came to a stop, Susan turned the craft and moved it to the upper edge of the sand before cutting the engine. In the deafening silence she climbed out of the cockpit with me closely following. We had donned leather flying jackets and trousers before departing and now the first thing Susan did was remove her jacket. Then her trousers. She removed her flying boots and slipped on a light pair of sandals, now her only garment. "Come on, Alex," she urged. "Get naked."

I had been looking at the wonderful scenery - not to mention the wonderful vision of a nude Susan. Now I quickly removed my own clothing. We stowed the unneeded garments back in the cockpit. Under Susan's direction I used some ropes to secure the aircraft to nearby trees. Then we removed two haversacks from a storage compartment in the craft. "If we go down that way," Susan said, pointing along the beach, "we can have a nice campsite above the lagoon high water line. Unless the weather changes, we won't even need the tent. Just think, Alex. For the next three days no plantation, no job, no clothes - just you and me." I'll admit, much as I enjoy the plantation and my work there, this sounded wonderful.

We began to walk down the beach, our arms around each other's waist and our only garments, the two haversacks. We were in no hurry and ambled slowly along the sand, now and then stopping to examine a shell or an interesting piece of driftwood. The shoreline began to arc outwards away from the center of the island, but after a short ways it curved back in once more. After about a half mile I realized that we had skirted the side of a largely enclosed bay. Looking across the blue water I could see a matching arm of land striking out and coming near its mate which we had just navigated. A line of coral reefs effectively cut the bay off from the open ocean.

At the far back of the bay was a wide expanse of fine white sand beach, extending from the gently lapping waves at the shore to the tree line, nearly fifty yards back. A line of rocky hills began to rise in a ridge from the far side of the bay and seemed to climb several hundred feet as they marched inland. Close along the side of these hills ran a stream, evidently flowing down from the lake I had seen near the crest of the inland mountain and entering the bay.

We moved to a level sandy area under a cluster of palm trees at the high edge of the beach. We stopped and Susan looked critically around. "I think this might make a good campsite, don't you, Alex?" she asked.

Smooth white sand, the breeze making gently soothing noises in the palm leaves, and the almost hypnotizing repetitive lap, lap, lap of the waves rolling in to expend themselves on the shore. A tropical sun and a few fluffy white clouds in an azure sky. Paradise indeed and shared only between myself and a beautiful and loving naked woman. Yes, I would say this was a good camp site.

We set our haversacks against the trunk of a nearby palm and spread a large blanket on the sand. Susan turned from lowering her share of the load and I caught her up in my arms. Her hands rose behind my neck and soon we were engaged in a kiss that seemed to go on forever. When at last our lips separated and we pulled slightly back, Susan let her hand gently stroke the side of my face as I stared deeply into her eyes. Then she leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on the lips and said, "Let's go swim." She turned and started to run down the gentle slope of sand to the shore as I rapidly followed, my eyes focused on the bounce of her tight buttocks and her long, flashing legs.

We spent the rest of the morning playing in the bay, swimming and wading in the shallows. We finally left the water and hot sun for the cool of the shade and dropped down on our blanket. We were both laughing, just at the shear joy of being alive and with each other, when our eyes met and everything seemed to stop. Seconds later we were locked in a tight embrace and passionate kiss, a kiss which did not end for a long, long time. And when we finally did let our lips escape each other's, we remained coupled elsewhere as we gently made love, my hard member moving slowly in and out as we once again became lost in each other's eyes.

Afterwards we ate the lunch we had packed and then just lay talking and gently stroking each other. We made slow, easy love and then drifted into sleep for an hour. When we awoke, Susan wanted to swim again, so we spent twenty minutes in the bay before coming back ashore. As we emerged from the water both of us seemed to be aroused to an unusual level and I was ready to head back to our blanket right then. But as we broke from a passionate embrace, Susan said in a husky voice, "Tie me up, Alex. Tie me up, spank me, and then fuck me silly."

I was a little surprised at her suggestion, but I will admit that it had an immediate effect on the state of my arousal, which was visually apparent to both of us. In a suave manner I immediately responded, "With what?"

Susan laughed and grasped my hard member. "Look in my haversack, Alex. I'm sure you can figure out what to do." Then she slapped me on my rear and ran off in the direction of our camp.

I quickly followed and investigated as she had suggested and discovered that my wonderful vixen had brought along some cotton rope and one of the cats from the punishment shed. A wide smile broke out on my face as I lifted these items and turned towards their potential victim. Susan smiled back and then stuck her tongue out at me before turning and running off across the beach.

I gave chase and, in a hundred yards or less, caught her., although she was not really trying to escape. I held tightly to her wrists and soon had them bound together in front of her. Using the end of this rope as a lead, I moved her over to the shade of a grove of palms near the stream where a large fallen hardwood had washed down. This tree was a foot and a half in diameter and was lying wedged against some large rocks in the stream. The large butt end was sticking out over the sand with its surface about two feet above the ground. This gave me an idea and I soon had Susan tied over the large trunk, her wrists and ankles bound together, right to right and left to left. I pulled her ankles apart, spreading her beautiful legs and opening her private places to my interested view. I anchored her in that position, bent over the trunk, legs and arms spread, and then began to play with her obviously aroused body.

For a quarter hour I teased her and excited her (and myself) until finally she cried in frustration, "Go ahead and do it, Alex. Whip my bottom. And then use me."

I accepted her advice and began to lightly snap the tails of the cat against her firm behind. Softly at first and then harder I applied the leather strands until Susan was gasping at each lash and breathing hard. Her taut bottom was completely pink with some darker lines from the flogging and her frequent cries were about half and half of pain and frustration.

At last I dropped the whip and moved behind her, pushing my rigid tool fully into her waiting and very wet tunnel. As I sank to my full depth, Susan gave out a moan and strained against the ropes in an attempt to get me in even deeper. I had made several long strokes when Susan suddenly cried, "My other hole, Alex. Fuck my ass, darling."

As I have previously said, once Susan had introduced me to this activity, I had found it wonderfully exciting, so now I didn't hesitate and pulled my rampant tool from its normal habitat and made to insert it into the tighter passage. Soon we were lost to all but the sensations of this erotic coupling and all too soon both Susan and myself were loudly proclaiming our satisfaction.

I think we made love another four times during the remainder of the afternoon. Once I let Susan bind me to a tree and apply the cat to my willing bottom, but that is the extent of my memory of our activities.

As it began to grow dark, we gathered some driftwood and built a fire. The air was warm and the fire wasn't needed for warmth, but its dancing flames helped the soft evening seem even more magical. Again we ate and again we began to make love. It had grown quite dark and I was watching the cavorting flames cast their golden glow on Susan's golden skin as she straddled my hips, her head thrown back, her muscles clasping my manhood in hard, rhythmic cycles, when suddenly a more silvery light broke from above the rising ridge to our left, painting her lovely body with a soft sheen. The moon, a couple of days past full, had risen and was bathing the island in its pearly radiance. Even as my muscles involuntarily began to convulse in climax, I stared at the beautiful woman astride my hips. Susan still had her head thrown back, her eyes closed, and her rapid breathing from her own orgasm made her beautiful breasts, shiny with sweat, rise and fall, casting ghostly reflections in the lunar luminescence. I have never seen a more lovely vision.




Spice Plantation Ch. 08



*

March 31 (Nine Day) 

Today we explored the island. In particular, we climbed the ridge to the central peak with its entrapped lake. We took one haversack, which I carried, with a blanket and food for lunch and supper. After breakfast, another turn at lovemaking, and a quick swim, we donned shoes (but nothing else) and began to follow the stream back up through the forest growth.

We walked for several hours, always climbing higher, always staying in or near the stream. Twice the stream fell over high waterfalls, one at least fifty feet. In each case we had to detour slightly, but always returned to the watercourse. By lunchtime we emerged onto an open plateau, an open area several hundred yards across. There were a few clumps of trees, but mostly the entire area was covered with relatively short grasses. Except for the lake. The lake I had seen from the air stretched out in front of us, taking up most of the area of the plateau. It looked deep. In fact, the water was so clear that I suspect it was much deeper than it looked. I know at one point I stood on a spur of rock and tried to touch the bottom which appeared to be about five feet below me. I pushed the end of a fifteen foot bamboo stalk into the water. I pushed it deeper. Finally, I had the entire five yard length below the surface along with half of my arm and still the bottom eluded me.

We walked around the circumference of the lake and found a total of five streams flowing from this source. None was river sized, but all had a goodly flow. The water was fresh and pure and I was surprised no one had settled on this island.

We walked around the shore, we swam in the lake, and - surprise - we made love. Neither Susan nor I seemed to be able to get enough of each other. In fact, we made love four times during the afternoon.

As we ate our supper we began to wonder about the time. It had taken several hours to get up here, and although the return trip would probably be somewhat shorter, we had no desire to be caught in the forest when darkness fell. In the tropics there is almost no twilight. The transition from day to night is abrupt and the careless traveler will find himself suddenly engulfed by darkness with almost no warning. The sky was still clear and we knew that later a bright moon would rise, but even that would not illuminate the path sufficiently. Neither of us had a watch - such seemed out of place in this paradise, so we had left them with the plane.

We were trying to judge the time from the height of the sun when suddenly the idea struck me. "Why not just stay up here tonight?" I asked.

Susan gave this idea a concentrated and considered study for about two seconds and then answered, "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Alex. We have a blanket to sleep on and it's probably going to stay warm, but we'll have to wait for food until we get back to the camp site tomorrow. Or we could just eat some of the fruits in the woods. I have a pretty good idea which ones are ok." Then her face took on a mischievous aspect and she added, "But whatever will we find to do until tomorrow?" The licentious look on her face left no doubt that she had already thought of something to fill the hours.

And we did fill the hours. I didn't keep a record, but I know there were many times - probably seven or eight at least - that we joined in ardent and fulfilling sex. I remember when the moon rose and its light struck her twisting body beneath my own. I remember the shivers caused by an errant breeze touching my sweat soaked back as I lay with my face buried between her legs. I remember a hot and sweating climax, our cries breaking the quiet of the evening and startling the night birds into flight. I remember cooling off after a strenuous session of sexual gymnastics with a moonlit swim in the fairyland of the rippling lake only to begin again in an effort to warm up once more. And I remember a long, slow time just before dawn until the first rays of the morning sun added their own caresses to mine as I lay entwined and coupled with Susan.

When at last we started our journey back down the stream bed, neither of us had had much sleep, but I had never felt more awake or alive in my life.

*

April 1 (Ten Day) 

We spent the day at our campsite. We reached the site late in the morning and by then, despite the breadfruit and mangos we had eaten, both of us were famished. We put together a lunch from our stores and when we were sated dropped down on the blanket to rest. I think the lack of sleep caught up with us, because the next thing of which I was aware was Susan stretching against my side. I blinked and looked around as we came awake and saw that the sun had dropped a long way down the sky. We had slept for several hours.

After a quick trip into the bush to relieve ourselves, we returned to our blanket, which we moved out into the afternoon sun. We lay down together and soon - surprise - we were once more engaged in sweaty and carnal activity. Afterwards we had a quick swim and returned to the sun drenched blanket.

Once during the remainder of the afternoon, I again used the ropes to bind Susan and then proceeded to warm her lovely bottom with my hand and the cat before ravishing her, but mostly we just lay, generally on our sides, propped on our elbows, facing each other. I may have given the impression that Susan and I spend all of our time engaged in sex. While we do engage in such activity a great deal, we also have found a wonderful sense of commonality in our interests and often spend long periods in conversion on a variety of topics. This afternoon we discussed everything from the way of life on the plantation contrasted with "modern" Europe or America to the future of aviation as a commercial enterprise to personal tales of our families and relatives.

In the few weeks I have been on the plantation and known Susan - in all senses of the word - I have found myself coming to view her in a more complex way than I did at first meeting. Sexually, we are very compatible and have found that we enjoy each other immensely. Intellectually, we also seem to be a good fit, enjoying the same forms of music and art. Although this life does not limit our activities as is done in the "civilized" world, we have both come to enjoy making love with each other, not exclusively - we certainly engage in a variety of couplings with other partners - but, if not exclusively, perhaps with a little added desire. Lately I have begun to wonder if I'm falling in love with Susan, and I think perhaps she is beginning to feel similar things about me.

Our conversations led us to the topic of couples on the island. "I know there is no real necessity and no restrictions on a couple like Nate and Joan," I said, "but what happens if someone wants to get married?"

"You mean to limit themselves to each other?" Susan asked.

""Not necessarily," I said. "No, not that at all, really. But suppose they should decide that wanted to be wed, not so much for now, but for when they eventually leave the island. You know we all say that someday we'll probably move on. But suppose someone like them -" Susan gave me a direct look. "All right, someone like them or like us, decided to stay together after we leave the plantation. Is there any arrangement for marriage on the island?"

"Actually, Alex, since we run our own 'government', we have the power to marry anyone we choose. You or Nate either one could do it. To make sure everything would be recognized, we would probably have the Dutch or the French factors register it with their own government. I understand that it has actually happened once in the past, but it made no effective change. I suspect that if Nate and Joan married while still here, nothing would change in living arrangements - or in recreational activities. Actually, I expect that there is a very good chance Nate and Joan will marry when they leave here. They've said a few things to make me think they have talked about it. I think they just don't see the need here."

We changed the subject then, but the discussion has left a number of ideas swirling around inside my head. I have a lot to think about.

We continued to talk most of the rest of the afternoon. We did swim a couple of times and again made love, but the majority of the afternoon passed in languorous relaxation and talk. As darkness fell, we again built up a fire and put together a meal. Afterwards, Susan and I walked along the beach for an hour or so, our arms around each other, listening to the ebbing and flowing of the waves and watching the unbelievably bright stars. At last, with the Southern Cross behind our shoulders, we headed back towards our campsite where we spent another hour in loving exercise before dropping off to sleep.

*

April 2 ( One Day ) 

After a morning swim - and at least an hour of early morning exercise of a decidedly enjoyable nature, Susan and I packed up everything and prepared to leave the island. Once again dressed in the flying clothes, we pushed the plane back out onto the clear beach and under Susan's directions, I managed to swing the propellor several times until the engine caught and became a healthy roar. The trip back was uneventful and well before lunchtime we were once again on the plantation island, going about our normal workday activities.

When supper came there were some questions about our trip, but discussion was of the scenery and features of the island, not of our indubitably erotic activities. I suspect that this was simply due to the fact that everyone knew what we had been doing much of the time and here it seems so normal, not at all out of the ordinary.

After dinner, when we had returned to the hut we are now sharing, Che came by to visit. She had stopped just to talk with Susan, but before she left - nearly three hours later - we had all engaged in an impromptu party during which I had sex with Che while Susan looked on. Also, probably more surprisingly, I looked on while Susan and Che had sex. Or I should say I began by looking on at their amorous activities, but before they had finished I joined, entering Susan from behind while she had her head pressed against Che's mound and Che let her own tongue continue to stimulate Susan while using a free hand to tickle and squeeze my balls. Just a typical night at home.

It looks like the workload may be a little lighter for the next few days, so Susan and I started talking about having a real party next Eight Day. I'm not sure exactly what she means by "real" party, but I have the idea it will be large and attended by both staff and a number of islanders. She is already planning on getting Che and Ly-mei to help her with the food and she has directed me to think of some unusual games and activities. She left no doubt that such games and activities should be highly erotic and lead to what will probably be an all night orgy. A day never passes that I'm not thankful I took interest in Nate's offer to work here.

I closed the book and laid it aside. "I'm afraid that's all that there is in this volume. I'm still looking for more, but you had probably better not hold your breath."

"It's a fantastic story, Paul. I really hope you find more. And I wish I had known your aunt and uncle."

I smiled. "Well, I thought I knew them, but I still have a little trouble reconciling the uncle I knew in the tweed jackets with the naked Alex cavorting on a South Pacific beach. But it is getting easier. Now I believe you said something about wanting a wild finish to this weekend."

Judy's nipples were hard and sticking out in stiff nubs and I could see moisture escaping from between her legs. "Yes, Lover. Take me downstairs for one more session. I'll wear pants tomorrow so you don't have to worry about anything showing." This comment was more in jest than reality. We play a little rough, true. But it was rare for one of us to leave a mark that would last to the next day, and, anyway, almost all of any marks we did leave would easily be covered even by summer clothing - (well, maybe not a bikini) - and certainly cooler weather clothing would allow nothing to show.

However, Judy wasn't the only one who was aroused. I released her, leaving her cuffs in place on her wrists and ankles, and we both made a trip to the bathroom before heading for the playroom.

We spent the next three and a half hours in wild sex play. Judy felt like being the "victim" so I kept her tied or otherwise bound almost the entire time. She spent a good three quarters of an hour stretched tightly spread eagled between floor and ceiling while I worked her over, back and front, with a cat, a strap, a couple of paddles, and a crop. I believe she came three or four times before I finally released her hands and, leaving her ankles bound to floor rings, bent her backwards onto a table and took her hard and fast.

She spent time tied in an arch, first on her front and then later on her back while I dripped hot candle wax on her sensitive areas, tickled her until she was gasping for air, and used my tongue to bring her to several more orgasms.

For almost the entire time we were in the playroom I kept Judy constantly stimulated, either sexually or with sexy torture. By the end of the three and a half hours I had come myself three times and Judy had lost count long before. At the last I had her stretched along one of the padded saw horses with her ankles spread and anchored to the horse legs. Her waist was held against the damp leather with a belt, raising her ass invitingly. Instead of binding her wrists to the front legs of the horse, I clipped them together out beyond her head and fastened them to a chain anchored to the ceiling over the small of her back. This arched her up and back severely, placing a real strain on her back and arms. Judy loves this position which leaves her open and available for whatever punishments I wish to inflict. And that night I did inflict them. I used a leather paddle, a cat, and the crop on her already sore ass, leaving it hot and red all over. I flogged her breasts before I fastened weighted clamps to her nipples. Arched backwards as she was, her breasts were hanging free so the weights could swing and torment them even more. I added a couple of clothes pins to her pussy lips and used strings to pull them out, opening her sensitive areas further.

Judy endured this stressful position and my various punishments for nearly thirty minutes during which she came at least four more times. Finally I could see that her responses to the various whiplashes and other torments indicated that she was nearing exhaustion. I used the cat to deliver a dozen severe blows and then moved behind her to push my cock into her hot and wet pussy. For several minutes I drove in and out, raising her higher and higher. As she started nearing a climax once more, I withdrew which brought a groan of frustration from Judy. But I left her empty for only seconds before I began to push a large vibrating dildo into her vacated tunnel. At the same time I quickly smeared my member with lube and began to push into her rear opening. I fucked her bottom while I used a crop to snap against her stretched and tormented breasts and her taut thighs. In only a minute both of us were screaming as we became lost in probably the most engulfing climaxes we had had the entire weekend.

As we came down and I released her from her punishing position, we practically fell against one another and locked into a kiss that seemed to go on and on. When we finally pulled apart we just held each other for several seconds while each of us stared into the depths of the other's eyes. With our arms around each other we made our way back upstairs and to the shower. We returned to the bedroom and I built up the fire a little, but left all the lights off. The flickering light from the fire made Judy a vision of dancing gold and shadow and I knew I had never seen anything more lovely. I think that as I looked at her then was when I was first sure I was really falling in love with her.

We kissed again and then climbed into bed. As we settled down I heard the clock in the front hall striking midnight and I said, "Well, was that a wild finish to the weekend, Lover?"

Judy propped herself up on one elbow, leaned over and gave me a quick kiss. "It was definitely wild and this has definitely been the hottest weekend I've ever spent. Tomorrow it's back to classes, but the last four days have been unbelievable. I've never been happier, Paul."

Then she leaned forward again and pulled me tightly against her body for a long, deep kiss. When she pulled back this time, a little short of breath, she said, "Definitely a wild time. But I'm not sure the weekend is finished yet. I guess that's up to you, Lover."

Her hand reached down and grasped my rod which I was surprised to find was becoming hard yet again. It looked like she was right: the weekend wasn't quite over yet.

About six weeks after that hot weekend, Judy and I were again together on a Friday night. This time we were dressed and in the kitchen preparing supper. It was the first week of March and that afternoon had provided the first glimmer of spring. The air was warmer than it had been since sometime in the fall, the last of the snow was melting in dirty little piles around the campus, and a few shoots of green were starting to appear. Of course we might very well get another snow storm or maybe some freezing rain, but at least it looked like warmer times might become reality some time in the near future.

I stirred the small pieces of beef tenderloin as they sauteed with the parsley, green onions, garlic, and dry mustard. Judy was working beside me, splitting her time between tossing several varieties of dark green leaves with some olive oil and other "secret ingredients" and sampling and seasoning a bubbling mixture of diced potatoes, onions, and cheese sauce. She turned her head and leaned over to kiss me. "Wine all chilled?" she asked.

"Need you ask?" I responded. "So are the glasses. I'd say, what, about five or six more minutes?"

She nodded and went back to her tasks. Staring down at the potato dish she said, "Paul, break is coming up in about three weeks. Have you given any thought about what you want to do?"

Actually, I knew one thing I planned to do, but I wasn't ready to tell Judy about that just yet. I had ordered the item and the store had assured me I would get it at least a week before break, so I planned to surprise her with it during the vacation. I had been thinking of taking her to dinner in a fancy restaurant in the city, but since I wasn't ready to say anything to her yet, all I said was, "Nothing in particular. Have something in mind? Someplace to go, maybe?"

Still looking down she said, "Well, I did come across something on the internet that sounded interesting."

I looked over at her and finally she looked up. "There's this company that specializes in oddball getaways. They had one that sounded kind of interesting. You go on a charted boat out of south Florida and they take you over to an island somewhere in the direction of Bermuda. They evidently have a number of small islands, none more than half a mile across. Each one has just one hut or cabin of some kind, stocked with food. There's no electricity, but they do have gas refrigerators and stoves and a store of fresh water. Anyway, they drop you off on the island and then pick you up a week later. No one else on the island and no other islands nearby at all."

"You mean just the two of us?

She nodded. "Just us, the sun, beach and ocean."

I replied, "That sounds wonderful." I saw her let out her breath. I guess she had been afraid I wouldn't be interested. But I had to add, "But, like you said, break is just three weeks off. Would there be any chance of there being a vacancy this late?"




Spice Plantation Ch. 08



A smile crossed her face. "That's what I was afraid of, so I checked. There was just one open."

"Then maybe we should grab it before someone else does," I said.

"Not necessary." She smiled at me again. "I put down a deposit and reserved it."

"Not only are you beautiful, but obviously smart, too. That's wonderful, Lover."

"I haven't told you what it costs yet, Paul. You might change your mind when you find out." Before I could say anything she went on, "Of course, the cost includes the food. And we won't need to spend anything on clothes."

I looked at her, just slightly surprised. I leaned over and kissed her again. "Wonderful! A whole week.."

"Nine days, actually," she interrupted.

"Even better. Nine days of sun, sand, sea, and a beautiful, naked woman." Judy actually blushed slightly, but I hardly noticed. I had already forgotten the restaurant idea and was thinking of us alone on the island for a week, free to make love whenever we wanted, and nothing to wear at all. Then I corrected myself. Judy would have something to wear. I closed my eyes for a second imagining how she would look, tanned and naked, and wearing nothing except a diamond solitaire on the finger of her left hand.